Ever Really Know Someone
by Aenea
Summary: Chapter 18 uploaded- it's FINISHED!!!
1. Default Chapter

Title: Can you ever really know someone?

Season/Setting: Just after the Season two premiere. 

Summary: The recent series of events lead Francie to suspect that something is going on. In the meantime, someone finds out about Sydney. But is everyone really ever like they seem???

Genre: Suspense, Drama

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own ALIAS. That privilege is someone else's. But I'd like to! J

_Author's Note: The new season hasn't actually started showing here, so I don't really know what happened- I've had to go by episode guides, which hardly ever say anything. So any discrepancies there aren't really my fault. Any other errors are though, so I'd like to apologise in advance. _

Francie watched closely as the routine repeated itself. The phone would ring at a late our, and a male voice would ask for Joey's Pizza. Then, just minutes later, Sydney would leave for a reason she'd never told anyone about before. At first Francie didn't notice it- Sydney would 'need to get some time for herself to help cope with Danny's death' or just have cravings. But the calls and the act continued, and Francie had to admit to herself that something was going on. So the suspicion began.

Today could have been like any other- Sydney received the phone call from the mysterious no one in search of pizza, then minutes later would leave on some vague errand. But it wasn't like any other, and Francie knew it. There was no way the old Syd would have just left after finding out that Will had been on drugs for the past three years. It just wasn't her. But she left without a backwards glance, leaving Francie with Will, the one person she thought she truly knew. It just wasn't what she would have expected from Will. But then again, she wouldn't have thought that both Will and Syd would disappear for ages at the same time. And now Will didn't suspect a thing about Sydney. It just didn't add up.

*

"How's Will handling things?" asked Vaughn, his face a mask of worry. Sydney frowned.

"He seems to be doing okay," she said slowly. "Finding out what he did, the way he did was a huge shock. Add that to the way we covered it up, and anyone would be different."

"Well, I just wanted you to know that you can always talk to me about it," Vaughn offered. Sydney smiled gratefully.

"Thank you," she replied.

After the meeting Sydney drove to the corner store to pick up the chocolate that she'd 'craved'. She didn't really feel like it, but if she didn't get it Francie would get suspicious. Or more suspicious than she already was. Sydney pulled into the driveway, hunched her shoulders and buried her face in her hands. It was great that she didn't have to hide anything from Will, but she felt terrible for letting him get dragged into all this. At least she volunteered for this deceit; he was thrown unwillingly into the middle of it. And Francie. She longed to tell Francie the truth, to stop the lies and share everything like they used to. Finally she sat up, picked up the chocolate and walked out of the car. She plastered a fake smile on her face before entering the house. More lies.

*

Francie wandered out into the hallway, about to leave for school. She was nearly at the front door when she noticed a large brown envelope on the floor. She bent down to pick it up. _Sydney Bristow_ it read on the front. Francie sighed, walked to Sydney's door and pounded on it. 

"Something came for you," she called through the door. There was a muffled thud, then the door opened. Sydney reached out for the envelope, which Francie handed to her. Sydney glanced at it then tore it open, a confused frown on her face. She pulled out the contents, and her frown disappeared. Her face paled and her brown eyes widened. She looked like someone who's just received a death sentence. The contents spilt out of her hands and onto the floor. Francie looked at Sydney, concerned.

"Are you okay? Come and sit down," she said. She took Sydney's arm and led her into the lounge room, quickly glancing over her shoulder at the envelope's contents.

A pile of photos, depicting Sydney with a handsome man at several locations, lay strewn over the wooden floor. 

*

Sydney walked quickly through the SD-6 offices, not letting the panic she felt show on her face. The memory of the photos of her meeting Vaughn was permanently imprinted in her mind. They'd been compromised, and she didn't know how much time she had. In her panic, she ran to the first person she thought could help her. Her father, Jack Bristow.

She burst into his office, surprising both her father and Marshall. She looked over at Marshall.

"Umm…Dad? I need to talk to you about something in private," she said pointedly. Jack sighed in exasperation.

"Can't it wait? We're in the middle of something," he said. 

"No, it's _urgent_," she said, some of her panic creeping into her voice. Jack picked up on it; he frowned at her in concern.

"Can we continue this later, Marshall? Thanks," he said, ushering Marshall out of the room before he could start complaining. He then reached under his desk and pushed a button.

"Okay, Sydney, we have about 3 minutes. What is it?" he asked, frowning at her. Sydney took a shaky breath.

"Someone knows," she said. Jack looked confused.

"Knows about what?" he asked. 

"About me…about Vaughn and me…everything," she said, her face crumbling. She buried her face in her hands and started sobbing. Jack sat down next to her and rubbed her back comfortingly.

"Tell me everything," he asked quietly. Syd struggled to regain her composure. After a few deep breaths she began.

"This morning Francie came to give me something that arrived overnight. It was a large brown envelope, and I had no idea what it was, so I opened it right there. And inside…inside there were photos of… of me with Vaughn. At the warehouse, the pier, in Taipei, it was all there. And there was a note."

"What did the note say?" asked Jack, his voice urgent.

"I've got it here," said Sydney, pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket. She handed it to Jack. 

"_My, my, we are a naughty girl Agent Bristow…_" he read, and then crumpled it up. Sydney watched him anxiously.

"Okay, Syd, here's what we going to do. I'm going to contact Devlin and let him know you've been compromised. He'll alert Vaughn. I need you to go home and destroy those photos. I'll call you with more details as soon as I know them. Okay?" Sydney nodded slowly. Jack glanced at his watch, the handed Sydney the crumpled piece of paper. She took it and shoved it in her pocket, then faced her father.

"Am I going to be alright Daddy?" she asked nervously.

"I hope so."

*

Francie arrived home from school, frowning at Sydney's car. She wasn't supposed to be home yet. Francie opened the front door and dropped her keys on the table.

"Syd? You home?" she called. There was a scraping of furniture and a rustling of papers, then Sydney's head poked around the corner. She smiled.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute," she said. Francie walked down the hall towards Sydney, and then frowned. She sniffed at the air.

"What is that smell? Is that smoke? What _are _you doing in there?" she asked, walking into the room. Sydney grinned sheepishly.

"I was burning my photos of Danny- I thought that if I didn't see them then it wouldn't hurt as much," she explained quickly. Francie looked at the floor dubiously. That did not sound like something Sydney would do. Things were just wrong around here, and she knew it. Sydney looked at Francie, concerned.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Sure…fine," replied Francie vaguely. If something was going on, she didn't want Sydney to think she was onto it. She smiled at her.

"Fine…"

*

Sydney sat anxiously by the phone. She had been waiting for nearly two hours, waiting for her father to ring. Even Francie had noticed, she'd commented on how Syd looked like she was waiting for a phone call the day after a date. Then Francie had gone into her room, declaring that she couldn't stand the incessant pacing. Sydney had ceased pacing, but still tapped her foot nervously. It had been ages. What was going on?

Suddenly, the phone rang, making Sydney jump nearly a foot. She calmed herself down, and then answered the phone a little breathlessly.

"Dad?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah," came the gruff voice at the other end. "This is the first chance I've had to ring you. I contacted Devlin and informed him of the situation. There's nothing we can do right now, so you're going to have to sit tight for a while, just until we know where the leak came from." Sydney nodded, then realised that her father couldn't hear her. She acknowledged it vocally. There was a pause.

"And Sydney?" Jack asked hesitantly. Sydney made an encouraging noise.

"Devlin didn't want me to tell you this in case you were unduly worried but… we haven't been able to contact Agent Vaughn." Sydney gasped. 

"I don't want you to get yourself worked up over it, he's probably just turned off his phone or something. We're going to keep trying to reach him, and as soon as we do I'll let you know. For now, just sit tight," Jack said, then hung up. Sydney gently placed the phone on the hook. She wrapped her arms around herself and resumed pacing, her face beginning to crumble.

*

Francie frowned at her computer. The words that normally flowed out of her hands and onto the page were blocked. She glared at her hands. It didn't help. The sound of the phone ringing startled her, and she started to answer it. But the ringing had already stopped by the time she reached her door. She opened the door a crack. Sydney was talking into the phone in a hushed, hurried voice. Francie closed the door again and turned back to her computer. This assignment was going nowhere fast, and she had to get it started. She glared at the screen, particularly the little blinking light the signalled that she could begin typing. It blinked away merrily, oblivious. The sound of Sydney's voice permeated the walls, and Francie found herself listening despite herself. Syd sounded unusually panicked, and she was talking to her father. There was an unusually long pause, followed by Syd's gasp. Francie frowned. A few minutes later the phone hung up.

Francie waited a few minutes, and then opened the door a crack. Syd had resumed that god-awful pacing, this time hugging her arms to herself and struggling not to cry. Something was definitely up, and Francie knew better than to ask. All she would get would be fob offs. She turned back to her computer and switched it off, resigned to her fate. There was no way she was going to finish the assignment, not with Syd working grooves into the hardwood floor. Honestly, the girl had enough drama to keep a daytime soap on air, and that's saying something. Francie grabbed her jacket and walked out of the room, closing her door behind her. Sydney turned to see what was she was doing. Francie held up her black, woollen coat.

"Thought you could use some space, so I'm going out for a while," she said, grabbing her keys off the table. Sydney nodded absently and went back to her pacing. Francie watched her for a minute, then left.

*

The phone still hadn't rung, and the grooves were well and truly in the floor. Sydney wandered aimlessly around the house until she found herself in the kitchen. Sitting in the fridge was a bottle of wine. She debated with herself for a minute, then poured herself a glass. Maybe it would help relieve her nerves. She filled a wine glass, then returned the bottle to the fridge. Then she settled herself on the couch, the portable phone in her lap. She had just gotten comfortable when the doorbell rang. She frowned, then stood up, putting the phone on the coffee table. She walked to the door and opened it.

She had time for a brief glimpse of a face covered by a balaclava and a black woollen coat before she collapsed to the floor, unconscious from the blow to her head. The wine glass fell to the floor and smashed, spilling wine everywhere. The unknown person reached down and dragged Sydney's unconscious form through the doorway, smearing the wine around the floor. The door was slammed shut.

Inside the house, the phone began to ring. After a few rings the answering machine picked up. Jack Bristow's urgent voice came on.

"Sydney, you need to get out of there. They have Vaughn already, and they're coming for you. Don't answer the door, just _get out_!! Syd…"

With that the machine cut him off. "There is no more room on this tape," an electronic voice announced, before hanging up. Silence fell.

*

Sydney woke up with a groan. The first things she was aware of were a) that she was tied up and b) that she had a pounding headache. She groaned again for good measure. A familiar face swam into her vision. 

"Vaughn?! What are you doing here? Where is here anyway?" she asked urgently. Vaughn was tied to the chair next to her, a considerably large bruise covering his left temple. He opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by the door opening. Sydney's unknown assailant entered, followed by…

…Arvin Sloane. Sloane had a strange look on his face when he turned to Sydney. Sydney glared back at him. Sloane smiled in amusement.

"I'm glad you're finally awake, Sydney. After all, I wouldn't want you to miss any of this," he said, gesturing around vaguely. Sydney's glare darkened.

"Ooh, such anger," taunted Sloane. "It's such a pity you know. I had such grandiose plans for you, and your mother. Oh well. At least you wont miss this. I'm about to reward Agent Vasquez here," gesturing at the masked person "for catching the double agent who ruined so much stuff for us. Come over here Vasquez, let Sydney see your face."

Agent Vasquez walked over until she was right in front of Sydney's face. Vaughn watched on, his green eyes wide in terror. Sydney shot him a reassuring glance.

"Double Agent Sydney Bristow, I'd like you to meet Undercover Agent Cassandra Vasquez," chortled Sloane. Sydney glared at him even fiercer than before, then turned to face Vasquez. Vasquez reached up and slowly removed her balaclava. Sydney's chocolate brown eyes widened in shock.

"…Francie?" she whispered.

THE END!!

_Author's Note: Well, what did you think? Good, bad, absolute rubbish or am I a nasty person for ending it there? There's only one way for me to find out! FEEDBACK!!!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Okay, after reading all the requests for another chapter, here it is. _

_Oh yeah, the guy Quentin Tarantino played on one episode in the first season (I don't remember the name) is mentioned, but I'm not sure if the name's right. Anyway, when Cole is mentioned, I mean him._

"…Francie?" asked Sydney, her voice shocked. 'Francie' looked back at Sydney solemnly.

"It's Cassandra," she stated simply. Sydney just stared at the woman she'd thought was her friend.

"I'll just leave you to get better acquainted," sneered Sloane as he left the room. Sydney didn't even notice him leaving, nor did she notice Vaughn. All she noticed was the woman standing right in front of her. Francie…no, Cassandra stared back at her, an unidentifiable emotion in her eyes. After a minute Cassandra turned away, her shoulders shaking.

"How could you?" she asked, in a hurt voice. Sydney stared at her back, bewildered. What the hell was she on about?

"You betrayed your country," Cassandra continued, her voice small. She turned back to Sydney; her eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

Sydney stared. What was she on about? She had to know what was going on…unless…

Sydney opened her mouth to explain everything, but Cassandra cut her off.

"You betrayed your country…there is nothing you could possibly say that changes that. You're a traitor," she said, her voice trembling. Then she spun on her heel.

"Wait!! You don't know everything!!" Sydney yelled after her, but Cassandra ignored her, leaving the room.

*

Francie/ Cassandra shut her office door behind her and leaned against the wall. She slid down it, burying her face in her hands. She was wracked with guilt. The look in Sydney's face, the betrayal written all over her face. Here was the woman she'd been best friends with for years, and she'd handed her over to god knows what fate. There was no way she could forgive herself.

She'd volunteered for the job nearly 8 years ago. It should have been easy, just go undercover as a student and watch a potential agent, see if she could be trusted. It was only supposed to last a couple of months, but then the months dragged on, and the suspicions in the company grew. There was evidence leading to not just one, but two moles in the company, and she was to continue watching Agent Bristow, despite her convictions that Sydney was loyal.

Then came Danny's death, and the sudden change in her behaviour. The anonymous phone calls, and the meetings with the mysterious no one. Cassandra's convictions wavered, and she followed Sydney, taking photos of the man she'd been meeting. But she hadn't been prepared for what Sloane told her when she gave him the photos. That the man was Sydney's contact, that Sydney was a double agent. Cassandra hadn't accepted it, still didn't accept it. There was no way that the Sydney she knew would betray her country. There was something deeper going on…

*

Sydney waited until she was sure they were alone before turning to Vaughn. She took in his face, her eyes filled with concern.

"Are you alright?" she whispered to him. He nodded slightly.

"It hurts like hell, but I don't think it's serious," he said. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. We have to get out of here," she said, nodding down at their restraints. Vaughn laughed humourlessly.

"I've been trying for hours. Maybe you can…" he suggested. Sydney struggled valiantly with her bonds for a minute, to no avail. She stopped and sighed.

"Nope, they're too tight," she said dejectedly. Vaughn frowned absently. 

"There is one way…" he started, then broke off. He looked at Sydney, his startling green eyes held hers for a minute.

"But…?" Sydney invited him to continue. Vaughn sighed.

"If you dislocate your thumb, you can compress your hand enough to fit them through the ropes. Only one of us has to do it, they can free the other one," he explained. 

Sydney thought for a minute. 

"I should be the one to do it," she said. Vaughn shook his head vehemently. 

"No. I should- you're better at hand-to-hand combat than me, so we need you at your best," he pointed out. Sydney looked at him, her eyes conflicted. Finally she nodded slightly. Vaughn took a deep breath.

There was a sickening pop, and Vaughn's face paled. His eyes, filled with pain, held her gaze steadily as he slowly drew his hand through the ropes. He bit his lip and kept pulling it through until it was completely freed. Then, his eyes still on Sydney as if drawing strength from her, he pulled his uninjured hand through the slack in the rope. As soon as it was free he let out a shuddering breath and stood up. He walked around to untie Sydney with his good hand, avoiding looking at the other one. 

Sydney helped free herself, then turned around to face Vaughn. His face was still pale, and he was sweating slightly. She lifted his arm and looked at the injured hand. Vaughn looked away, not wanting to see it. Sydney looked up at him, her brown eyes filled with concern. Vaughn met her gaze, then looked away.

"It can wait. We need to get out of here," he said. Sydney nodded, and they turned towards the door.

*

Jack stood in Devlin's office, his face contorted in fury. Weiss sat in the chair, his face worried.

"My daughter is missing, and you tell me that there's nothing you can do about it?!" he seethed. "She's an agent of this company, and there's nothing you're going to do about it?!"

"What about Mike?" asked Weiss, his voice laced with worry. Devlin met both their gazes, then turned away.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do for either Agent Bristow or Agent Vaughn. They're inside SD-6, and there's no way I can approval for an extraction, the risk is too high. I'm sorry Jack, my hands are tied," he said, his back to them. There was a long silence, then Devlin asked them to leave. 

Weiss started to walk to his office when Jack grabbed his arm. Weiss froze, and Jack leaned over to him.

"We'll get them out, with or without Devlin. Meet me in the parking lot," Jack whispered in Weiss' ear before letting go of his arm. 

Weiss paced the parking lot, the same ten paces backwards and forward, playing absently with his yo-yo. He'd been waiting for what seemed like ages. He glanced at his watch. Okay, he'd only been waiting for 3 minutes, but every minute wasted meant one more minute Mike was with those bastards. He turned to pace the other way and found himself face to face with Jack Bristow. 

Jack frowned down at the yo-yo in Weiss' hands, then mentally shrugged. Each to his own. Weiss looked down at his hand, then stuffed the yo-yo in his pocket sheepishly. He faced Jack and waited patiently, not letting on that the guy had him seriously freaked out. The man had killed that traitorous weasel without a second's remorse, who wouldn't be freaked? 

"We're going to extract them ourselves," Jack said. Weiss frowned.

"Just us?" he asked, confused. Jack sighed.

"No, one of Sydney's friends is going to help us too," he explained, though he looked distinctly disgruntled at the thought. Weiss wracked his brains for a minute.

"You don't mean…Will Tippen?" he asked, horrified. Jack nodded.

"Frankly, the man's useless. How is he going to help us?" Weis asked incredulously.

"He's going to drive us there and back," Jack said. "He volunteered to help after I told him about the situation, and it was the most menial job I could think of."

Weiss thought it over for a minute, then nodded acquiescence. 

"Yeah, okay. I'm assuming they're at the Credit Dauphine building?"

"Yes, in a sub-basement. It's where they keep all the high security risk prisoners. It's impossible to escape without some kind of outside help."

"So when do we leave?"

"An hour."

*

Sydney looked around the corner carefully. The hallway looked clear, so she turned back to Vaughn. He was absently cradling his hand, concentrating on her fiercely. Sydney looked at his pain-filled eyes, longing to be able to just kiss it all better. He frowned at her, questioningly. She gestured that it was all clear, and they crept silently out of the room. They snuck along the corridor, careful to keep to the walls. 

Sydney looked around carefully, trying to see if she recognised where they were. Nothing looked familiar, and she was fairly certain that they weren't in the Credit Dauphine building. That didn't help much; she had no idea how long she'd been unconscious. They could be anywhere. Still, she looked around in the vain hope that she might be wrong, that they might just be somewhere in the building she'd never seen before. After all, when Cole infiltrated the building she saw some rooms that she hadn't even known existed. She pretended to know where she was for Vaughn's benefit. She didn't want him to worry.

Vaughn trailed along behind Sydney, taking in his surroundings. It probably wouldn't help them, the only part of the Credit Dauphine building he'd seen was the carpark, so as far as he was concerned they could be anywhere. But it provided a distraction from the throbbing that was coming from his injured hand, and that was always a good thing. Besides, Sydney seemed to know where she was. He stopped his musings and concentrated on what he was doing. 

Sydney looked over her shoulder at Vaughn. He seemed to be holding up pretty well, all things considered. She turned back to face forward again and walked around the corner.

She should have checked first- she walked smack into none other than Cassandra Vasquez. 

"Oh, great," she murmured.

Author's Note: There are a few people I'd like to thank- Melia, Couch, and everyone else who's reviewed me, both for this story and for my other one: it really means a lot to me. And I'd also like to request: if you like this story please give feedback. If you don't like this story please give feedback. If you haven't read this story, don't give feedback because you'll have no idea what you're on about. And if you're still reading this Author's Note, congratulations!! That's an accomplishment in itself! 


	3. Chapter 3 finally

_Author's Note:  Sorry this took so long to come- what with school, then catching the flu I couldn't find the time to actually write this._

Weiss frowned dubiously at the panel van in front of him.

"I thought we were supposed to be inconspicuous," he said.  Jack sent Weiss a look, which shut him up immediately.  Will was poking around at all the things Jack had bought, giving a verbal inventory.

"Gun…oh, another gun, bullet proof vests, first aid kit, lock pick kit, I have absolutely no idea what this is…probably expensive…" Jack glared at Will, who put down the small device and backed away slightly.

"Right-oh, don't touch the expensive stuff, I get it," he said.  Weiss sighed in exasperation, and climbed into the back of the van.  Jack followed, leaving Will to jump into the driver's seat.  He revved the engine and they were off.

Weiss shrugged off his shirt and pulled on a bulletproof vest.  After a few minutes of tugging at the velcro Weiss looked at Jack.

"Tell me about where we're going," he said.  

"We're going to the parking lot of the Credit Dauphine building.  Once we reach it, you're entering the air conditioning duct.  There's only one room you can reach through the ducts.  Once you're inside, you'll be heading to the elevator shaft.  I'll be in my office, shutting off the cameras.  You'll only have a few minutes to get down.  Then I'll direct you over the ear piece."

Weiss nodded.  Silence fell in the car, only to be broken by Will.

"You know, it's strange.  Last time Sydney disappeared without a trace I was missing too.  This time Francie's the one who's gone.  Weird…"

"What did you just say?" asked Jack cautiously.

"Only that Francie's gone too.  Why?" asked Will.

"It's…nothing," said Jack, frowning at Weiss.  Weiss looked at him questioningly, and Jack shook his head.

*

"Oh, great," murmured Sydney.  Vaughn followed her around the corner and froze.  Sydney was standing face to face with that woman, France or Cassandra or whatever her name was.  Francie reacted quickly, grabbing Sydney and Vaughn's arms and dragging them into the nearest room, shutting the door behind her.   Then she turned back to Sydney and Vaughn.  Sydney was glaring right back at her, her right temple beginning to bruise.  Vaughn slumped tiredly against the wall, cradling his left hand.  He let out a sigh, and Sydney's gaze flicked over to where he was, concern evident in her face.  Francie cleared her throat.

"Look, I don't know what's going on.  All I know is that something is seriously wrong here," started Francie.  "And you yelled out to me that I didn't know everything.  You're right, I don't know anything.  In fact, I know next to nothing.  But something is telling me that there is more to this than it seems, and that you can tell me…" she finished suggestively. 

Sydney took a deep breath.

"Alright, I'll tell you everything…but later- we don't have time," she said hurriedly, her voice a hoarse whisper.  Francie frowned dubiously, then nodded slowly.  Sydney let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Okay…I might be able to help you get out of here," said Francie.  

*

The panel van pulled up in the car park underneath the air conditioning vent.  Weiss climbed out of the van, all the equipment strapped around his person.  He reached up, pulled down the vent and climbed inside, careful to make sure that the van blocked any view of him at all times.  Meanwhile, Jack climbed out of the car, straightened his suit jacket and strode calmly to the door.  He opened it, walked over to the elevator and pressed the button for his floor.  Unless someone decided to give him an uncomfortably close inspection, no one would notice that the small earpiece in his right ear was attached to a turned off mobile phone.

_Author's Note:  I know this chapter is a lot shorter than the others, but as I said before, I have the flu.  Mmmm, Sudafed…anyway, more is coming soon (as soon as I can actually think straight.)_

_Oh, and congratulations again to the people who actually read Author's notes!!!  Brownie points for you!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note:  This chapter is longer than the other one, but probably doesn't make sense due to my flu-addled brain.  By the way, Sudafed and Demazin rule!!!_

Weiss crawled slowly through the ducts, cursing his size.  He knew that Sydney had crawled through these exact same ducts when Cole infiltrated the building, but he never really appreciated how hard it was.  The ducts were TINY!  Of course, it might have helped that Sydney was a good few inches shorter than him, and would have weighed about 50kgs soaking wet.  And she didn't have enough gadgets to keep a guerrilla army supplied for a decade strapped all over her.  All in all, Weiss was not entirely happy.  He crawled around a corner and finally reached his destination.  He let out a sigh of relief and wiped a bead of sweat that was running down his forehead.  Then he reached up and turned on his radio.

"I'm in," he said, trying to keep everything as simple as possible.  The shorter the message, the smaller the chance of it being overhead.  He leaned his head against the wall and waited for a reply.

"Camera's disabled.  You're free to go on," came the static-filled reply.  _Imagine that, bad reception when you're sitting in a long, metal tube,_ thought Weiss sarcastically.  Then he pulled out a screwdriver and went to work on the vent in front of him.

*

Will sat in the panel van, bored out of his mind.  It had been all right before- he'd been caught up in the whole 'spy' thing, but now the professionals were gone, leaving him all alone.  He tapped his foot, watching the clock anxiously.  Sydney had already been in these people's hands for hours- he'd spent less time with people like these, and that was enough.  He only hoped she was all right.

*

Finally!  The vent came free, and Weiss threw it aside.  Then he squeezed himself through the tiny gap and dropped to the floor of the most blandly furnished room he'd ever seen.  He looked around, struggling not to laugh.  There was a chair in the corner, and a bin next to the door.  That was about it.  He turned back around and looked at the air conditioning vent.  _Maybe they should install ducting that isn't big enough to fit people in,_ he thought.  _But I'm not going to point it out to them._

He stuffed the screwdriver back into one of his many pockets and walked to the door.  After examining the hinges closely, he pulled out a small water bottle and dripped some on a slightly rusty looking one.  Then he pulled it slowly open.  It moved without a sound, which brought a proud grin to Weiss' face.  He walked out of the room, careful to shut the door behind him and headed down the hall to the elevators.  

Once inside the elevator, he waited for Jack to give him more information.  After a minute Jack's voice sounded in his ear.

"They're being held in sub-basement 4.  It's on the third floor underground."

Weiss studied the buttons in front of him carefully, then reached out one gloved finger and pressed the one reading B4, assuming the **B** stood for basement.  The elevator juddered, then descended.  _Looks like I was right,_ thought Weiss triumphantly.

*

Jack stood in a room, facing rows and rows of security camera images.  He'd already locked the door and cut off any outside access to the cameras, and was watching the televisions intently, looking for any sign of his daughter.  Suddenly a flash of movement caught his eye, and he turned to face the television.  It depicted a small room, with Sydney and Agent Vaughn inside.  There seemed to be someone else, but he couldn't make out their face.  He silently willed them to turn around.  After a minute, his wish was granted.  The unknown person turned around, showing their face to the camera.

"Oh, shit," murmured Jack.

*

"Oh, shit," came Jack's voice over the earpiece.  Weiss jumped slightly, startled, then touched his earpiece.

"What is it?" he asked anxiously.

"I found Sydney…" answered Jack cryptically, then fell silent.  _Great,_ thought Weiss.  _This guy's just full of answers today._  The elevator shuddered to a halt, and the doors slid open.  Weiss looked around, then walked out carefully.

"Okay, direct me," he said.  

"You need to go about 100 metres in front of you, then into the door on your left," came the tinny reply.  Weiss nodded, then set off, carefully counting his paces.

*

Sydney glanced over at Vaughn, worried about him.  He smiled back at her weakly, his pale face creased with pain.  She sighed.  She couldn't stand to see him like this- she was pretty sure he'd fractured some of the bones of his hand when he'd dislocated the thumb, but couldn't be sure.  As soon as she got the chance she was going to take a closer look at his hand, but for the moment she had to focus.  

Francie turned away from Sydney and thought hard, plans forming in her head.  Most were rejected outright, but one seemed to be okay.  She thought for a few more minutes, and then finally decided that they had to take the risk.

"Okay, I can get us out of here," she said, turning back to face Sydney and the other man.  They both looked at her expectantly.

"If we can get to the elevators without being seen, there's an air conditioning duct that leads out to the car park.  From there, it's up to you guys." 

Sydney thought it over, and then nodded.  It was risky, but there weren't any other options.  She gestured for Francie to lead the way.

*

Weiss turned around the corner and waited for further instructions.  They were slow in coming, and not very informative.

"Keep going.  They're in one of the rooms.  I have to leave, people are going to be suspicious."  So Weiss kept going, walking quietly down the hallway until he reached a door.  He opened the door and looked inside.  Empty.  He carefully shut the door and walked to the next one.

Sydney peeked around the corner, checking to see if it was clear.  Someone was there, looking inside the rooms.  She swore under her breath, then turned to Francie.

"Is there another way around?" she asked in a whisper.  Francie nodded, and the three of them backed away from the corner slowly.

Weiss looked towards the end of the hall.  He was certain he'd heard someone say something.  He froze, then backed away down the hall quietly.  He'd have to find another route.

Francie led Vaughn and Sydney back down the hall and around another corner.  She opened a door and stepped inside.  Vaughn and Sydney followed warily.  The room was different to the first one, larger, with several doors.  Francie frowned for a moment, then strode across the room and opened another door.  She peeked outside, then nodded in satisfaction. 

"This is it," she said, ushering them forward.  Vaughn sighed.  It would have been so much easier just to walk straight to the elevators.  If only the cameras weren't there, they could have escaped ages ago.

Weiss walked around another corner, and sighed in exasperation.  He was rapidly becoming more and more lost.  It didn't help that every corridor looked the same.  He looked at the corridor in front of him, debating whether or not to retrace his footsteps.  Suddenly Jack's voice came over the earpiece, startling him.

"What are you doing? Jack hissed down the microphone.  "You're nowhere near them."  Weiss growled.  "You need to go back to where you started." Jack stated.  Weiss turned back the way he'd came, resigned to his fate of wandering forever in the sub-basements of SD-6

Sydney walked next to Francie, Vaughn trailing a few feet behind.  He'd been falling further and further back as time went on, and Sydney found herself worrying more about him than about her safety.  Not a good idea.  It pained her to do so, but she refocussed on the situation at hand.  Francie led them around one final corner, and the elevators were there.  Sydney nearly sobbed in relief.  They were one step closer to freedom.  She was about to run the final few metres down the hall when she heard footsteps approaching.  She glanced over at Francie and Vaughn, and they all crept quietly back around the corner.

Weiss jogged as lightly as he could back down towards the elevators.  He had just made it to the front of the elevators when a flash of movement caught his eye.  He froze, hoping they hadn't spotted him.

The footsteps stopped, leaving only the sound of people's breathing in Sydney's ears.  Vaughn slumped against the wall and closed his eyes.  Sydney looked over at Francie, who only shrugged back.  Looks like someone was going to have to see what was going on.  Sydney looked suggestively at Francie, who shook her head vehemently.  Dammit.  She took a deep breath, then stepped as calmly as she could around the corner.  There, standing at the end of the corridor was…

Weiss turned towards the sound of the footsteps behind him, his hands beginning to raise above his head.  He looked up to see…Sydney Bristow.  His knees nearly buckled in relief, though he hid it well.

"Oh, good, you're here," he said.

Vaughn's eyes opened in shock at the sound of the voice.  He stood up straighter, then rushed around the corner.  Weiss and Sydney stood at the end of the hall, Sydney with her back to Vaughn.  Weiss looked over Sydney's shoulder to see Vaughn.  Sydney looked around, then shot him a relieved smile.  Then her eyes widened, and she jogged back around the corner to grab Francie's arm.  She dragged Francie back around the corner towards Weiss.  

"Francie, this is Agent Weiss.  We'll explain later," said Sydney quickly.  Weiss nodded in agreement.

"Your father's waiting in the car park for you.  We'll sort everything out later, for now let's just get you two out of here," Weiss explained.  Sydney frowned.

"The three of us are leaving," she said, her voice brokering no argument.  Weiss frowned, then shrugged.

"Whatever, let's go," he said.  He hit the elevator button, and they all walked inside.

_Author's Note:  Thank you again to all the lovely people who read and review (especially Couch- thank you for all your reviews, they really mean a lot to me.  And Jade: I don't know whether you're reading this or not, but if you are thank you so much for all your reviews of my other story).  There, now I've said enough thank you's to fill and Oscar acceptance speech, I just have one more thing to say:  Please please PLEASE review me!!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: I realise that they escape from the sub-basement was a bit too easy, but I can barely think straight, let alone plot out a difficult escape.  Plus, it's ALIAS, and as much as I like the show, sometimes the escapes are way to easy.  _

Jack walked briskly through the offices of SD-6, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone else.  He was desperate to make it back to the van, to see his daughter again.  Images of the woman in the room with Sydney and Agent Vaughn kept repeating over and over in his mind.  It was that woman, the one who lived with Sydney.  What was her name again?  Oh, yeah, Francie.  What was she doing here?  He increased his walking speed, fervently wanting to know the answers.  

Weiss watched as Sydney, Vaughn and Francie walked into the elevator.  Francie and Sydney seemed in pretty good shape- the dark bruising on Sydney's temple was a bit worrying, but didn't require urgent medical attention.  It was Mike he was worried about.  He was leaning against the wall, eyes closed and arms hanging listlessly at his sides.  There was a large bruise covering his left temple, but it was his left hand that worried Eric the most.  Mike was unconsciously favouring it, and it was no wonder why.  It was swollen, covered in bruising.  

Weiss looked from Vaughn to Sydney, who was looking at Vaughn with deep concern.  Weiss cleared his throat and she looked at him.  He nodded questioningly at Vaughn, and Sydney just shook her head.  Weiss frowned, but before he could say anything, the elevator juddered to a halt, and the doors slid open.  He jumped slightly, then looked outside the door.  The coast was clear (again. SD-6 should really reconsider the efficiency of its security system).  

*

Will tapped the steering wheel of the panel van, bored out of his mind.  The silence in the carpark was beginning to get to him, so he started singing quietly to himself.  Suddenly his radio crackled into life, startling him more than he'd like to admit.  He quickly composed himself, then responded.

"They're coming up, we'll be there any minute," came Jack Bristow's gruff voice.  

"Okay," said Will, as he turned the key in the ignition.  The van revved to life, vibrating loudly in the silence.  Will looked at the rearview mirrors, anxious for a glimpse of Sydney, so he could see for himself that she was all right.

Sydney crawled through the air conditioning ducts behind everyone else.  She was finding this relatively easy, but it seemed she was the only one.  There were regular sotto voce swear words from Weiss, sighs of annoyance from Francie and little gasps of pain from Vaughn.  The latter was particularly worrying, and Sydney was only too happy that they were nearly out.  Suddenly Weiss stopped, causing a chain reaction of crashing into the person in front of you and mumbled apologies. He shushed them quiet.  

"Did you hear that?" came a small voice from somewhere underneath them.

"Yeah…I think it's coming from the ducts," came another voice.  Sydney held her breath.

"Rats maybe?" 

"No, too large.  I think we should alert security."  And with that they heard retreating footsteps.  A stream of fervent swearing came from Weiss' direction, and he started crawling double speed.  The noise was shocking, but there was no help for that, they had a few minutes on the outside before security arrived.  Sydney bit her lip as she crawled, hoping and praying that they would make it.

Jack Bristow stepped out of the elevator and strode calmly to the van.  He opened the door harshly, startling Will.  Jack pretended not to notice, and Will turned back to the rear view mirrors.  Jack sighed- he'd better tell him.

"There's something you should know…" Jack started.  Will turned to face him, eyes wide.

"Is there something wrong with Sydney?" he asked anxiously.  Jack shook his head.

"No, she's fine.  It's about Francie."

"What about Francie?" asked Will, bewildered.

"She's with them," Jack stated.  Will's eyes widened even further, and his mouth opened.

"Before you start asking me questions, I don't know any more about her role in this than you do.  I just thought I should tell you that she's here."  Will clamped his mouth shut and nodded.  Jack turned to the side mirror, watching for some sign of his daughter.

Weiss sighed in relief when he finally reached the vent.  Nearly home free!  Those last few minutes had been the worst- the constant fear of being discovered.  He reached into his pocket, pulled out the trusty screwdriver and went to town on the vent.  The other three sat in the ducting, panting heavily.  After about a minute, the vent fell to the ground with a resounding clatter. Weiss shrugged.  Didn't matter now, security already know they were here.  He stuffed the screwdriver into his pocket and dropped out of the hole and into the carpark.

Will watched in the mirror as first Agent Weiss appeared, followed by Francie (thank god Jack had warned him, she could have given him a heart attack), then someone he'd never seen before, and finally Sydney.  Weiss pointed out the car, and they started walking towards it, wiping away sweat.  Will watched, horrified, as they walked on calmly, oblivious to the security team standing with guns armed right at them.  Jack hadn't seemed to notice either, leaving Will with no choice.

"Look out!" screamed a familiar sounding voice.  Sydney whirled around instantly, just before the security team started firing.  She swore vehemently, then grabbed Francie's elbow and started running.  Weiss and Vaughn were right on their heels.  The panel van revved, then started reversing towards them, the back doors swinging open.  

"Get in!" called another familiar voice.  Sydney complied, dragging Francie in with her.  Weiss and Vaughn jumped in afterwards, pulling the doors shut after them.  The sound of bullets impacting on the metal echoed throughout the van, and Francie gave a little sob of fear.  The van tore out of the building, swerving wildly on punctured tires, then squealed into the night.

_Author's Note:  I think they still got away too easily, but hey, blame it on being sick.  Yeah, that'll do.  Once again, I thank EVERYBODY for their wonderful feedback (I love you guys!) and ask for more.  I know, I'm just never satisfied. BTW, how does everyone feel about some romance?  If you like, keep tuned.  If you don't, keep tuned anyway, I want your feedback!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: Here you go, the next chapter!  And it's…(wait for it, wait for it)…LONGER!! So, get reading __J___

Jack turned to face his daughter in the back of the van.  She was sitting, slumped against the wall of the van, sweaty hair falling in her eyes.  She reached up and brushed it behind her ear, revealing a darkening bruise.  She winced slightly as she touched it, pulling her hand away.  She seemed to notice his scrutiny, because she looked up to face him.

"What's going on now?" she asked, her voice weary.  Jack looked away.

"We have to put you into a safe house for awhile- just long enough to take care of Sloane.  He hasn't reported you to the Alliance yet, so you're safe in that respect."  Sydney frowned.

"What about Vaughn?  And Francie?  They can't go back," she asked.  Jack sighed.

"They have to join you in the safe house until this is all sorted out.  First, we're ditching this car, then we'll sort things out from there."  Sydney nodded, then turned to Vaughn.  He was sitting, head leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed, breathing deeply.  Weiss had given him some aspirin, but there was nothing else they could do for him until they reached a hospital.  Sydney watched him, her face a picture of concern.

Will glanced surreptitiously into the rearview mirror, watching Francie in amazement.  He wondered absently how many more of his friends were secret agents.  They really did seem to be popping up everywhere.  He looked at Sydney, and the other agent.  She was obviously very attached to him, and somehow hadn't let on to him at all.  Strange, how little he actually knew his friends.  Seems like all of them were keeping secrets from each other.

*

The van drove (rolled?  How best to describe the movement of a car with virtually no wheels?) into a parking lot behind a deserted factory.  Sitting patiently in the car park were two more cars- ones without bullet holes in them.  Francie stepped out of the van and breathed in the fresh air gratefully.  That last crawl through the ducts had been exhausting, sweaty work.  Then sitting in an enclosed space with three other people's body odour…not an experience she'd care to repeat.  Jack and Sydney climbed out, followed by Weiss and Vaughn.  

Will was the last one to get out.  He jogged lightly over to Sydney and wrapped her in a huge bear hug.  "I was so worried about you," he murmured into her hair.  Sydney grinned back, eyes brimming with tears.  "Thank you," she murmured back.  After about a minute, Will drew away and turned to face Francie.  

"I don't know what the hell is going on with you, but…I love you anyway," he declared, hugging her close to him.  Francie laughed into his shoulder.  Jack cleared his throat, causing Will and Francie to look over to him sheepishly.

"Thank you," Jack said gruffly.  Sydney gave a slight, what-can-you-do shrug, which her father ignored.

"We're going to split up now.  I'll be taking Mr. Tippen back where he belongs, then back to work to clear up the whole Sloane problem.  Agent Weiss will be taking you three to the safe house, where you'll sit tight until this all clears up."  Sydney nodded seriously, then her eyes flicked over to Vaughn.

"What about Vaughn's hand?  I can't exactly fix it," she said.  Weiss looked up from where he was examining his feet.

"I'll take him to the hospital after I drop you off," he explained.  Sydney nodded, then turned to Francie.

"You okay with this?" she asked earnestly.  Francie looked uneasy for a minute, then nodded.  Jack turned and walked over to one of the cars, and Weiss led Vaughn to the other, leaving Will with Francie and Sydney.  Will just looked at them, then held them both to him.

"You be careful," he said, his voice rough with emotion.  

"You too," Sydney replied, then pulled away to walk over to the car.  Francie lingered for a minute, then followed her.  Will stood watching them for a second, when the sound of the engine startled him.  He jogged over to Jack's car.  A few minutes later, the carpark was deserted.

*

Francie watched absently out the window on the car ride, miles away from it all.  The recent events were replaying in her mind, and she fervently hoped she'd done the right thing.  Sydney was her friend and everything, but this explanation had better be good.  She brought herself back to the present, glancing at her watch.  No wonder she was tired, it was past midnight.  She settled her head on the window and dozed off.

After what seemed like hours Weiss pulled up at a small cottage.  Sydney stirred, then looked around curiously.  It was a small wooden cottage in the mountains.  Her home for the next couple of…days, she hoped.  She didn't think she could stand it if it was for much longer.  She reached over and nudged Francie awake, then climbed out of the car, grateful for the chance to stretch her legs.  Francie climbed out a minute later and took in her surroundings.   Vaughn and Weiss talked for a minute, then Weiss leaned out of the car window and handed a set of keys to Sydney.

"I'm taking Mike to the hospital in town.  While I'm there I'll pick you up some supplies- we had someone bring some clothes for you and Mike, but we weren't counting on you being here," he said, directing the last part at Francie.  Sydney nodded, smiled reassuringly at Vaughn, who smiled back.  She jingled the keys in her hand as she watched the car pull away.  Only when it was gone did she turn and head to the front door.  She unlocked it and stepped inside.  Moments later Francie followed, a secretive smile on her face.

*

Sydney looked around the cabin, playing with the keys absently.  She stepped into what was probably the lounge room, a largish room with a couch and two armchairs sitting around a fireplace.  She smiled despite herself, and then walked down the hall to see what the bedrooms were like.  She walked into the first one she found and looked around.  There was a suitcase sitting on the bed, but she wasn't sure if it was hers.  Only one way to find out…

Sydney glanced around then pulled on the zipper of the suitcase.  It fell open, and she looked inside.  From the looks of it, not hers but Vaughn's.  She entertained looking through the contents, but decided against it.  That would just be sad.  So she regretfully pulled the zips closed and left the room.  She walked into the one across the room, and opened the suitcase in that room.  Definitely hers.  She looked around the room, reasonably happy.  She backed out of the hall and nearly knocked Francie over.  Francie was looking at the spare room, getting accustomed to her new home.  She smiled at Sydney, who grinned back.  They both walked into the lounge room and flopped on the couches.

Sydney frowned at Francie.

"For someone who was willing to knock me unconscious a few hours ago, you seem pretty nice," Sydney started.  Francie looked at Sydney thoughtfully.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted.  "I thought I was serving my country, doing my duty.  Now I don't know what to think.  After I handed you in, I was furious with you.  I thought you'd betrayed everyone.  But when you called out to me, with such conviction that I didn't know everything, I began to doubt myself.  After all, I'd been working at a company for years, yet I knew next to nothing about them.  I only know 3 other agents in the company, for Christ's sake!  And I got to thinking- who am I more likely to believe?  Someone I only saw once a week, or the person who started out as an assignment and became my best friend?  So I decided on the heat of the moment to listen to you, and I only hope I don't come to regret that," Francie explained, her tone confiding.  Sydney listened attentively, then nodded reassuringly.

"I don't think you'll ever regret what you did, once you know everything.  I know we promised we'd tell you as soon as we escaped, but I'd rather wait for Vaughn first," Sydney said, her face growing worried when she mentioned Vaughn's name.  Francie smiled again, and Sydney frowned at her.

"You like him, don't you," Francie said, more of a statement than a question.  Sydney looked affronted.

"I do not!" she protested.

"Yes you do.  I see it in your eyes when you look at him- you haven't looked at anyone like that since Danny," Francie said.  Sydney blushed and looked down at her lap. 

"Fine, I admit it," she started.  "I knew it!" Francie exclaimed.  Sydney sent her a death glare, and Francie quieted immediately.  "I admit it, but there's nothing I can do about it," Sydney continued.  Francie frowned, confused.  "There's all sorts of…protocol and stuff," Sydney finished lamely.  Now it was Francie's turn to look affronted.

"Since when does a little thing like 'protocol' stop Sydney Bristow?" she asked, half joking half serious.  Sydney looked away.

"You'll understand," she mumbled, her voice sad.  Francie looked away as well.  There was a moment's silence.

"You can perve on him though?  Because he really is hot," she said.  Sydney snickered.

*

Weiss and Vaughn arrived back at the cabin a few hours later, a plaster cast covering Vaughn's hand and lower arm.  Weiss struggled to get the door open without dropping any of the grocery bags he was laden with.  They stepped into the foyer, the sounds of women's voices floating through the doorway.

"…Friend's pretty cute too though."

"Yeah, but…I don't know, just not my type."

"Good, then he's mine."

Vaughn had a moment to wonder what they were talking about when the voices stopped.  There was the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor, then Sydney appeared.  She took in Vaughn's cast and her face filled with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked.  Vaughn shrugged.

"One dislocated thumb.  That I just happened to stuff up and fracture in about 5 places," he said, waving the cast around.  Sydney smiled, relieved.  Francie walked into the foyer and took in Weiss' 'supplies'.  She grinned.

"Get enough there?" she asked.  Weiss grinned back.

"You ever see how much Mike here eats?" he joked.  Vaughn shot Weiss a fake-hurt look, then they both cracked up.  Francie and Sydney laughed uncertainly.  

After getting everything out of the foyer Weiss glanced at his watch.  

"I'm going to have to get back, I have to help Jack," he said.  Sydney and Vaughn nodded.  Weiss started to leave, then stopped.  He turned to Francie.

"Here's some clothes for you.  I didn't know what size you were, so I just guessed.  I suppose it's bound to fit better than any of Mike's stuff," he said.  Francie took the bag from him gratefully and Weiss left.  She looked inside the bag at the clothes.  A couple of pairs of jeans, some jumpers, socks, shirts and underwear, all in around about the right size.  She carried it into the spare room and put it all away meticulously in the drawers.  Then she walked back out into the lounge room.  She sat in one of the armchairs and faced Sydney and Vaughn.

"All right, tell me everything," she said.

_Author's Note:  There you go, another chapter!  And I think it makes more sense now that I'm actually on proper medication, not over the counter stuff.  The world seems so much clearer!  Anyway, feedback is always good- some of the stories on this site have over 300 reviews!  I feel kind of pathetic- please review me!!!_

_I'm asking some people's opinions here:  what do you think of Francie and Will getting together?  Possible, probably, as likely as a snowball surviving in hell? If you have a definite opinion on the subject let me know!_

_Thanks guys!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: The start of this chapter is mostly dialogue- sorry people!  Anyway, I'd like to thank the people who reviewed me again- you rock guys!  This chapter is pretty action-less, just warning you now._

Francie settled herself in one of the armchairs and faced Sydney and Vaughn.

"All right, tell me everything," she said.

Sydney sighed.  She had been kind of hoping that Francie would forget about this part.  Unlikely, but you never know.  She sat down on the couch, Vaughn coming to sit beside her.  They quickly glanced at each other, then Sydney cleared her throat.

"I'm going to have to start, I suppose.  Okay," she took a deep, shaking breath, then started to explain.

"Nearly 8 years ago I was recruited to work for the same company you work for," she started.  Francie nodded.

"The CIA," she stated firmly.  Sydney looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Francie.  The company is not the CIA, not even a secret black ops section.  It's a rogue company called SD-6."  Francie looked disbelieving, but Sydney ignored her and continued.

"I didn't know that until last year- I told Danny who I was working for, and they found out.  So, one day I came around and found him murdered," Sydney said, her voice shaking slightly.  Vaughn reached over with his good hand and laid it on her hand for support.  She smiled briefly over at him, then continued.

"So I decided to do something about it.  I went to see the real CIA about it," she said.  Vaughn took this as his cue to start.

"My name is Agent Michael Vaughn- I'm a CIA analyst.  Anyway, one day Sydney here came here, looking nothing like she does normally, I might add," Sydney flinched at the memory of that god-awful wig.  Vaughn grinned, and continued.

"So the CIA decided that we could use Sydney as a double agent in a plan to take down SD-6.  There was a bit of a debate, considering the identity of the existing double agent, but Sydney insisted."

Francie's disbelieving expression had slowly changed to one of mild horror.  Sydney jumped back in the explanation.

"So I decided to work as a double agent for the past year.  I'm given a mission by Sloane, then I meet Agent Vaughn here for my counter mission."  Francie looked shocked.

"Does Sloane know who he's working for?" she asked, her voice quiet.  Sydney nodded.

"He's one of the few people there who do," she said.  Francie looked bewildered.

"But he seems so nice…" she said, her voice drifting off towards the end.  Sydney frowned.

"I used to think that too.  But, Francie, there's no easy way to say this.  His wife was dying of cancer, and she figured out what was going on.  Then she went into remission, and Sloane killed her in order to get a promotion," Sydney said.  Francie looked horrified.  A stunned silence fell, then Francie stood up slowly.  

"I'm going to my room, to think," she said as she walked slowly out of the room.  

*

Vaughn withdrew his hand from Sydney's, scratching at the edges of his cast as he watched her.  She looked so…drawn.  It seemed that telling Francie had taken a lot out of her.  Yet, somehow, she looked as if a great weight had been taken off her shoulders.  Sydney turned and smiled at him.

"I'm going to take a shower," she said, gesturing to her filthy clothes and dirt smeared face.  Vaughn nodded, and Sydney walked off to the bathroom.

Vaughn started to pack away the stuff when Francie came back out of her room.  She watched him struggle one-handed with the milk before coming over to help him.  

"Thought I should give you a hand," she cracked, juggling a bag of tomatoes and a bottle of juice.  Vaughn grinned at her.

"Thank you," he said.  Then he frowned, puzzled.  "I'm not sure whether I should call you Francie or Cassandra," he added.  Francie looked up at him.

"Well, I've been Francie so long that I don't really feel like Cassandra anymore," she said.  Vaughn nodded, then began stuffing empty grocery bags into each other.  Francie looked on, confused.

"I need them for when I take a shower," he said, waving his cast around as explanation.  Francie nodded.

*

Sydney walked back down the hall, rubbing her hair dry with a towel, no longer dressed in the filthy clothes of before.  She'd found her favourite fluffy white sweater, and matched it with a pair of blue jeans.  Feeling refreshed, she wandered aimlessly into the lounge room and sat down on one of the armchairs, dripping water everywhere.  Francie was slumped on the couch, flicking through channels on the TV, and Vaughn was browsing through the bookshelves.  He looked over to see what the noise was, and grinned at Sydney.

"Oh, finally, I can have a shower," he joked.  Sydney shot him a death glare, but couldn't hold it when Francie started giggling.

"You should see her at home.  That was almost nothing," Francie snickered.  Sydney glared at her too, then started to laugh.

"What is this, pick-on-Sydney day?" she asked.  Vaughn grinned, then grabbed a garbage bag from where it was lying on the floor and began to tie it around his cast.  Sydney frowned, then stood up to help him, flicking water everywhere.  Vaughn backed away.

"The whole point of the bag is to keep it dry," he said, nodding at her hair.  She sat back down, and Vaughn walked down the hall.  Sydney turned to Francie.

"So, what do you want to do?" she asked.  Francie looked around the room.

"Well, while you were in the shower, Michael and I explored a bit," she started.  Sydney's eyebrow rose when she said Vaughn's name, but nodded for her to go on.

"Anyway, we looked around and found heaps of interesting stuff.  There's about a million board games in the cupboard there, heaps of books all through the house, and we have cable!" Francie declared.  

"Do they have Monopoly?" she asked, grinning.  Francie grinned back.

"Yup, and Cluedo too!" she replied.  

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Sydney asked.

*

"'Go directly to jail.  Do not pass Go.  Do not collect $200," came Sydney's voice drifting down the hall.

"Damn," came Francie's, punctuated by a thud of a metal pawn landing on a piece of cardboard with considerable force.  Vaughn smiled to himself as he stood in the doorway, trying to undo the knot in the bag.  He was considerably more comfortable in a pair of tracksuit pants and a hockey jersey.  Sydney and Francie hadn't noticed he was there so he cleared his throat, making both Sydney and Francie jump.

"Can I join in?" he asked plaintively.  Sydney giggled, and Francie reached inexplicably under the couch for something.  She pulled out another board game.

"We were waiting- you cant play it with only two people," she said, brandishing a Cluedo box.  Vaughn's face lit up and he plonked himself down on the floor beside them.

"I want to be Colonel Mustard," he declared.

"Ooh, I like a man in uniform," Sydney purred.  Francie burst out laughing.

"Dibs on Miss. Scarlet," said Francie.  Sydney frowned.

"I wanted to be her…oh well, I'll be Mrs. Peacock," she said, taking the blue pawn out of the box and setting it down on the board.

The game was getting heated, with accusations being thrown left, right and centre when Vaughn's mobile rang.  He pulled it out of his pocket and all three glared at it.  It rang away merrily, and Vaughn finally gave in.  He stood up and wandered into the kitchen.

"Hello…"

Sydney and Francie considered peeking at the cards in the envelope as they waited.  The temptation was almost too much, Francie found herself having to sit on her hands.  Finally Vaughn came back in, his face serious.

"That was Weiss.  He couldn't tell me much but…they're starting," he said.  Sydney frowned.

"Starting what?" she asked.

"I don't know," Vaughn replied, shrugging helplessly.

_Author's Note: I don't think this chapter is very good, but I don't have time to write it differently, what with exams and stuff.  So this it.  Reviews are always nice, and I'd like to thank the people who let me know about any potential relationships.  I hadn't considered Francie/Weiss, but it does have possibilities…_


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note:  This chapter is a bit different to the others, but it's necessary.  Please please PLEASE read and review!_

He crept through the shadows, almost a part of the night itself.  The leaves rustled gently as he passed, the gravel crunching softly under his feet.  He was a professional, a master at the game, and he was playing for the big ones.  The house grew closer, and his footsteps quieter.  

His victim stood, alone and oblivious, in front of the curtains, the soft light creating a silhouette for the entire world to see.  The man crept closer to the window, still careful to stay blended into the shadows.  The victim's shadow took a sip of a glass, muted music drifting through the house.  The victim's shoulders shook.  The man crept to the front of the house and picked the lock quietly.  It clicked open, and the man opened it with one gloved hand.  He shut it carefully behind him and walked softly into the room.  The victim stood with his back to him, swaying softly to the music, his muffled sobs drowned out by the noise.  The man lifted his gun; his aim true and cocked the trigger.

A shot rang out into the night.

Arvin Sloane fell, unseeing, to the floor, a photo of his wife held tightly in his hand.

The man walked slowly over to the body and placed the gun in the other hand.  Then he placed a sealed envelope on the nearby table and walked out.  Not a trace of his presence remained.  Unseen and unidentifiable, the man disappeared into the night.

_Author's Note: This chapter was a lot shorter than the others, I know.  But don't worry, the next one promises to be longer to make up for it.  Anyway, please read and review…oh, I want to know if everyone can tell who 'the man' is.  Yeah, that's about it.  _

_Thanks as always to the lovely people who go out of their way to write me a review- those few sentences really make my day __J___


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Once again I'm asked for romance!  Maybe I should just start with romance right at the start!  Only joking people, I love that you send me advice!  And don't worry, romance is being slowly blended into this story, so stay tuned!  Oh, and this is shorter than I intended it to be, but I had to study for my exams, so I couldn't really write much._

Sydney tried valiantly to pick the game up where it had left off, but Vaughn and Francie were too distracted.  Finally she just reached for the envelope and read the cards.  Francie and Vaughn looked outraged.

"I received an anonymous tip?" Sydney quipped.  Francie snorted, breaking the serious mood.  Vaughn snickered, then grabbed the cards right out of Sydney's hands.  He read the cards, then smiled righteously.  Francie sighed in exasperation, then turned to Vaughn.

"So, what do you think he meant, that they're starting?" she asked.  Vaughn looked thoughtful.

"Well, knowing Eric, it could be anything from the Superbowl to cleaning out his office," he said seriously.  Sydney giggled, and Francie looked intrigued.

"So, what's he like?" she asked.  Sydney looked at her meaningfully.

"You like him," she said, teasingly.  Francie blushed, and looked at Vaughn, who pretended not to notice.

"Umm…I don't know.  He's just…Eric.  He has fish," he ventured.  Then his eyes widened.  "He'd better not forget to feed my dog!"  Sydney glanced over at Vaughn, her face filled with barely contained laughter.

"He managed to get through CIA training all right, I think he can manage feeding a dog," she said.  Vaughn nodded, but still looked worried.

"Anyway, you can always ring him," Francie suggested.  Vaughn looked tempted, but then shook his head.

"He's going to ring the house line in an hour anyway, so he can talk to all of us at once," he said.  Sydney looked pensive.

"How can we entertain ourselves for an hour?" she pondered.  

"I can think of a few ways," Vaughn said suggestively.  Francie slapped him, but Sydney just stared at him.  It was strange, over the last few hours she'd realised just how little she'd known him.  She shook herself, and turned to Vaughn.

"Let me rephrase that.  How many PG-rated ways can we entertain ourselves for an hour?" she asked.  Vaughn grinned.

"Truth or dare?" he suggested.  Sydney glared at him.

"How many painkillers have you taken?" she asked.  Vaughn looked dejected.  Francie thought for a minute, then pulled a Scrabble box out from under the couch.  Sydney and Vaughn looked at it dubiously, then Vaughn shrugged.

"What the hell," he said, pulling the lid off the box.  Sydney shrugged, then helped flip the tiles over.

*

Francie leaned over the board and placed a C, O, E, L, A, T and A around the word ENTER. 

"There," she said.  "Coelenterata- phylum of diploblastic and radially symmetrical aquatic animals."  Sydney just stared at her with her mouth hanging open.

"I learnt it in Biology," Francie said, then turned to Vaughn.  "Your turn."

Vaughn studied the board and the tiles in front of him, then leaned over.  He placed the letters G, E, and D around the word RUN.  

"It's not as good as yours but…Gerund- the English _-ing- _form of a verb when in nominal function," he said, reaching for more tiles.  Sydney frowned.  She hadn't been counting on such tough competition.  She frowned at her tiles, desperately running through her vocabulary for something.  Finally she thought of a word and grinned.

"Paradigm- the set of all forms containing a particular element especially the set of all the inflected forms of a single root, stem or theme," she said, laying the tiles out around the word DIG.  She frowned at the board.

"Why is it that at the start we all used simple words, and now we're not?" she asked.  Vaughn grinned.

"Ahh, the art of misdirection- lead your opponent to underestimating you," he said in a reminiscent tone.  Sydney giggled.  Francie was just about to ley out her tiles when the phone rang.  She jumped and spilt them on the board, then sighed.  She'd forgotten her word- and it was a good one too!  Sydney jumped up and hit the Speaker button.  

"Hello?" she said in the direction of the phone.  Weiss' staticky voice replied.

"Hey.  How's it going up there?" he asked.

"Are you feeding my dog?" asked Vaughn.  Weiss snorted.

"Yeah, I'm feeding your dog.  Anything else?"

"We're wondering what the hell is going on down there, so just get to the point," said Vaughn, only half-joking.  

"Okay.  Here's what we're doing so pay attention."  The three of them looked at each other, then sat up straighter.

"Shoot," said Vaughn.

"Strangely appropriate there, Michael.  That's the first part- we had to shoot Sloane.  Which can be used to our advantage if we're careful.  Is Francie there?"  Francie looked startled.

"Yeah, I'm here," she said, confused.

"Okay, we're setting Sloane up as a scapegoat, and you're essential.  You listening?"

"Yes," said Francie.

"Sloane reported to the Alliance that he's discovered who the mole was, but didn't give them any names.  We're going to set him up- while you were working undercover you noticed a lot of discrepancies.  You confronted Sloane with them, and he denied it, which just raised your suspicions.  It's going to be you who discovered that Sloane was the double, and you who has to report it to the Alliance.  Do you think you can do that?" Francie took a deep breath, then said yes.

"Good.  As for Sydney, you've been on allowed sick leave, but Sloane deliberately destroyed the paperwork in the attempt to frame you.  Of course, you have no idea about that, as your father discovered the paperwork and reinstated your leave.  When you return to work, you're not to know anything of what was going on because your father thought it would unduly stress you."  

"Got it," said Sydney.  There was a pause on the end of the line.

"Michael, you're on actual sick leave due to your hand," he said.  Vaughn grinned.

"Well, that's easy to remember," he cracked.  Weiss snorted, then quickly grew serious again.

"Francie, I'm coming up to get tomorrow evening so you make it to the Alliance meeting on time.  That's about it, I'll call again tomorrow."

"Wait," said Sydney.  Weiss waited patiently.

"Who was the one who…you know…shot Sloane?" she asked, dreading the answer.  There was a long pause that did nothing to allay her fears.  Finally Weiss' voice came back on over the line.

"I'm not obliged to say.  I have to go."  There was a click as the phone disconnected.

Sydney sat completely still, not really wanting to think about it.  She had a terrible idea who Sloane's killer was, but she was desperately hoping it wasn't true.  Vaughn reached out and laid his hand over hers for comfort.  She looked up at him gratefully.  Francie felt like she was intruding, so she stood up and walked to the kitchen.  

"I'll just make some lunch," she said over her shoulder. 

_Author's Note: I know, it's kinda short and could be better, but you get that.  I'm too lazy to re-write it, so if you have any complaints…send them to me in the form of a review!  (I'm working on the assumption that if I ask enough times, I'll get more reviews…after all, some stories have over 300!)_

_Thank you to Loopylou, Stoko and everyone else who has been reviewing- you've been great guys!  You really make my day __J___


	10. Chapter 10

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Author's Note: Wow, 45 reviews at last count! I'm really stoked; it beats my last story. Anyway, here's the next chapter…

Author's Note: cough cough REVIEW cough cough. 

****

The next day

Francie woke up slowly, stretching luxuriously in the bed. 'When the CIA forks out money for safe-houses they can really do a good job,' she thought as she sat up. The sunlight shone through the gap in the curtains, and she reached up and pulled them completely open. Light poured through the room, making Francie blink slightly. She reached out for her watch and glanced at it. 10:30am. 'Makes sense, I've had a pretty hectic couple of days,' she thought. She slid her feet around the floor, looking for her slippers.

Dressed still in her pyjamas and a robe, Francie shuffled into the kitchen to make some coffee. It seemed that Michael and Sydney weren't up yet. Francie switched the kettle on and looked through the cupboards for something to eat while she waited for the water to boil. Her eyes fell on the bacon and eggs, and she grinned. Yum.

Vaughn staggered out of bed, wearing only a pair of tracksuit pants, to the wafting smell of bacon and eggs. He wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with his good hand. He stopped rubbing and stared in amazement. Sitting on the table was a plate of the most delicious breakfast he had ever seen. He looked up to see Francie cooking more food. She glanced over at him and smiled.

"Eat up, it's good for you," she said. Vaughn grinned, then pulled up a chair. Francie dumped the last of the food on another plate and joined him.

Francie studied Vaughn as he ate. She could see why her best friend had fallen for him, he was definitely a good-looking guy. She frowned slightly at his chest, then looked up.

"Michael?" she asked her voice one of mild curiosity. Vaughn looked up, still chewing. He swallowed.

"Yes?" he asked, spearing some more bacon with his fork.

"What's with the tattoo?" she asked, sipping at her coffee. Vaughn looked thoughtful.

"I could say it was to declare my undying love to my ex-girlfriend, but then I'd be lying. If I said it was done in a drunken stupor, now, that would be the truth," he said. Francie grinned, intrigued.

"Do tell," she invited. Vaughn grinned.

"Not much to tell. I went to a party, got wasted and woke up in the morning with a tattoo. Weiss denies that he had anything to do with it, but I don't know…" he said, his face suspicious. Francie snorted. She was just about to ask some more questions but Sydney chose that moment to wander into the room, wearing loose pants and a tight singlet top. She wandered into the kitchen and grabbed the food, oblivious to the outright staring Vaughn was doing.

Sydney sat down at the table and took a bite of the food. Francie waited anxiously.

"Wow, this is great! Who cooked it?" she asked, looking from Francie to Vaughn. Vaughn shrugged and pointed at Francie, who blushed.

"It's nothing," she said, embarrassed. Vaughn shook his head.

"It's not nothing, you shouldn't degrade yourself like that. This is possibly the best food I've tasted. When are you opening a restaurant?" he asked, taking another decisive bite of the bacon. Francie glanced over at Sydney.

"That was meant to be part of my cover," she admitted. Vaughn looked abashed. 

"I'm sorry," he said.

"No, no! I was really getting into the idea. It's still dawning on me that I can actually do that now, I can do whatever I want," she said. Sydney frowned slightly.

"What about your parents? I mean, your real parents?" she asked, confused. Francie looked over to her.

"It's kind of complicated…" she said. Vaughn leaned back, laying his cast on the table.

"We have a lot of time," he suggested. Francie nodded.

"Okay…the people who have been acting as my parents are actually my real parents. Francine is my middle name, so it was easy to alter my records. When I started out, I was still Cassandra, playing the role of Francie. But after 7 years…well, no one is supposed to be undercover that long. You start to…absorb…your role. Well, that wasn't too hard for me. After all, Francie was so much like me already. Towards the end I really started to envy her freedom. Now…well, I don't really know what I'm going to do. I'll figure it out later once I've worked everything out."

Sydney listened carefully throughout, then patted Francie's arm comfortingly.

"I'll be with you, no matter what choice you make," she said. Vaughn shifted uncomfortably in his chair. 

"Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but I'll be right back," he said before walked back to the kitchen. Sydney watched him go, then turned to Francie.

"He is so hot," she mouthed to Francie. Francie giggled. After a minute Vaughn came back into the room. He grinned devilishly at both of them, then pulled out a buttering knife and shoved it down his cast. He then scratched for a few minutes, sighed contentedly. Sydney snickered and her shot her a death glare.

"It itches, alright," he said. Sydney looked at him angelically.

Francie reached over and picked up the empty plates.

"I think I'll start washing up," she said. Sydney nodded absently and Francie walked into the kitchen. She piled the plates into the sink and turned on the tap, staring out the window pensively. 'Opening a restaurant would be kind of cool,' she thought as she squirted detergent into the sink. The bubbles frothed up and coated her arms. She smiled to herself as she scrubbed the dishes. 'That's my dream job, restaurant owner and cupid,' she thought, glancing surreptitiously over her shoulder at where Sydney and Vaughn were talking animatedly. 

*

After another relaxing day of board games, cable television and exploring Francie found herself regretting having to leave. She looked around the wood cabin, then down at her suitcase. Sydney was sitting in the lounge room, watching her sadly.

"Do you have to go?" she asked, knowing it was a stupid question but needing to know anyway. Francie smiled consolingly.

"Yeah, I do. Part of me wants to stay but…well, I get to spend a few hours getting to Agent Weiss," Francie said, winking conspirationally.

"Go get em sister," Sydney declared. Francie snickered. The horn outside beeped loudly, and she glanced out the window. Vaughn jogged down the hall and opened the door. He walked outside and spoke quickly with Weiss, then walked back to Francie.

"Well…see you," he said, hugging her awkwardly. Francie hesitated, then hugged him back. Then she turned to Sydney, who smiled though her eyes were filling with tears.

"You be careful, you hear?" she whispered into Francie's ear as she hugged her.

"You too," Francie whispered back, then stood back. She picked up her suitcase and climbed into the car. Sydney and Vaughn drew closer together and waved until the car was gone from sight. Sydney turned to Vaughn, her face worried.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" she asked. Vaughn looked at her seriously.

"Of course she will," he said comfortingly, drawing her into his arms. Sydney relaxed and he rubbed her back in small circles with his good hand.

"She be fine," he said.

__

Author's Note: aha! Now I can write some PROPER romance…keep tuned peoples!!!


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Note: Need I say again that I love reviews?  Cos I do.  Anyway, on with the story…_

Francie leaned back in the seat, watching out the window.  They'd only been on the road for a few minutes and already she was bored.  She looked down at her lap and sighed heavily.  Weiss glanced over at her.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice concerned.  Francie nodded.

"Yeah, just bored," Francie replied honestly.  Weiss snorted. 

"So, what do you want to do?" he asked.  Francie thought for a minute, then grinned deviously.

"Tell me about yourself," she said.  Weiss looked at her, shocked.

"What?  Why?" 

"I'm curious," Francie shrugged.  Weiss thought for a minute.

"Okay then.  My name's Eric Weiss but you can call me Eric, my best friend is Michael, and I like hockey and good cooking and I own fish.  Your turn," he said. 

"Okay, my name's Cassandra Francine Vasquez, but you can call me Francie.  My best friends are Syd and Will, I like cooking and the colour red and I don't own any fish," she said, laughing.  Weiss glanced over at her and laughed too.

"What's your favourite…colour?" Francie asked.  Weiss smiled knowingly.

"This sounds like a first date…okay, it's blue.  You already said yours is red, so…what's your favourite movie?"

"Ummm…ooh, that's a tough one…okay, I think it's pretty much anything that can make me laugh.  What's yours?"

"Umm…yeah, this is a tough one…okay, I've got it.  Attack of the Killer Tomatoes," Weiss said.  

"Really?!" Francie asked incredulously.

"Yeah!  Haven't you seen it?  It's a classic!" Weiss said.  

"Well, I'll have to watch it now then, wont I?" she said.  

"Next question," demanded Weiss, who was beginning to enjoy himself.

"If you could be anything you want, what would you be?" asked Francie.  Weiss thought hard.

"I think I would be…a millionaire," he said decisively.  "What about you?"

"I would say a millionaire, it does sound nice but…I kind of want to run a restaurant," Francie admitted.  Weiss looked thoughtful.

"Well, I suppose it's my turn to ask you a question.  If aliens landed on earth right now and told you and only you that they were going to blow up the world in 2 days, what would you do?" he asked.  Francie stared at him, unsure whether or not to laugh.

"Is that the question?" she asked.  Weiss nodded.  "Okay then, give me a minute, it's not really something you think about everyday…I've got it.  I would tell my close friends and family, and then max out my credit cards and spend the last 2 days of my life in bliss," she answered finally.  "I wouldn't tell the rest of the world because…well, I don't really think we'd handle it that well.  Like how they never told anyone what was going on in Men in Black."  Weiss glanced over at her again.

"I love that movie!" he announced.  Francie smiled over at him.

"Really?  Me too," she said.  They shared a smile, before Weiss turned back to the road.

"Your turn to answer," she said.  Weiss frowned, and then remembered the question.  He psyched himself up for the answer.

"I would ask the beautiful young woman next to me if she'd like to spend our last days together," he said.  Francie stared at him, shocked, then smiled shyly.

"Do you really mean it?" she asked, almost not wanting to hear the answer.  Weiss took a deep breath.

"Yeah.  But why wait until that happens?" he answered.  Francie listened, not daring to believe.

"Would you like…to go to dinner together?" he asked nervously, looking at her through the corners of his eyes.  Francie grinned widely.

"I'd love to!" she declared.  Weiss faced her and grinned broadly.

"It's a date," he said.

*

Vaughn waited until the car had completely disappeared before looking down at Sydney.  She hadn't noticed his scrutiny, her beautiful face sad.   She seemed so vulnerable in his arms, and he drew her away.  She looked up at him and smiled.  He led Sydney back inside the cabin and sat down on the couch, trying to think of something to lighten her mood, to bring that sparkle back in her eyes.  After a minute it dawned on him, and he grinned evilly.

"Weiss likes your friend, you know," he murmured, his green eyes laughing.  Sydney looked over at him and smiled.  

"She likes him too.  Do you think they'll get anywhere?" she asked, deep in thought.  Vaughn watched her, sensing her urge to play matchmaker.  He grinned.

"I don't know.  That depends on whether one of them realises how the other one feels," he said.  "Isn't it strange how you can spend so much time looking for someone, only to find out they've been staring you in the face all along?"   Sydney nodded thoughtfully, then shifted around in her seat so she could see him properly.

"You know what else is strange?  You know nearly every detail of my life, and I still know next to nothing about you.  I think it's high time you shared," she said righteously.  Vaughn looked taken aback, then nodded to himself.

"I whole-heartedly agree.  Where to start…my name's Michael Vaughn,' he said.  Sydney slapped him playfully.

"I know _that_.  Tell me something I don't know," she said.  Vaughn thought for a minute, then looked at his cast.

"This isn't the first time I've broken this arm," he said, gesturing down at his cast.  Sydney nodded for him to continue.  "I was about five or six I think.  I'd just watched Superman or something like that, and was utterly convinced that I could fly, but only if I practiced enough.  Well, my parents tried to convince me that wasn't the case, but did I listen?  Of course not, as if parents know anything.  So I climbed to the roof of the house, and it was a long way up, with a towel tied around my neck.  Then, still suffering from my unfortunate delusion, I leaped into the unknown.  It seemed I was mistaken, and learnt the hard way.  One broken arm and six weeks in a cast in the middle of summer ended that one," he said.  Sydney listened to him talk, smiling at him when he'd finished.

"Ah, the troubles of childhood," she said, still smiling. Vaughn looked over at her and smiled back.

"So what's your story of childhood," he asked.  Sydney thought for a moment, and then shot him an embarrassed grin.  

"You better not laugh at me," she threatened.  Vaughn nodded seriously.

"Tell," he demanded.

"Okay.  I was about 4 years old, and I didn't know how to swim properly.  So anyway, it had been raining really hard for a few days and the ground was filled with puddles.  Like any little kid, I thought puddles were great.  So I ran outside in my little gumboots and began jumping around in them.  It was great, and I was really enjoying myself.  My parents were laughing their heads off at me.  Anyway, I slipped over in the mud and fell down face-first in this puddle and began screaming.  I was utterly convinced that I was going to drown, and my Dad had to come and pick me up.  As it turned out, the water was about an inch deep, and my parents didn't let me live it down for months afterwards," Sydney said.  

Vaughn tried to keep his face under control but couldn't help himself.  He snickered; trying to ignore the death glare that Sydney was sending him.

"So Super Agent Bristow has a weakness after all," he said.  Sydney glared at him.

"I was 4!  You can hardly expect-" she started to protest, but Vaughn leaned over and took her face in his hands.

"Shhh," he said, then kissed her.  She shut up immediately.

_Author's Note: Am I evil for leaving it there?  Should I write some more?  In case you cant tell, this is Aenea hinting at feedback.  Please give._


	12. Chapter 12

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Author's Note: Sorry this took so long! And after someone told me this was one of the fastest updated stories on the site- I should be ashamed of myself. Does final exams count as an excuse? It better, cos it's my one. Anyway, here's the next chapter- things are heating up…

Sydney pulled away from Vaughn, her dark eyes wide.

"What are you doing?" she asked, shocked. Vaughn looked at her seriously.

"What I should have done a long time ago," he said solemnly. Sydney frowned at him, her face full of emotion.

"I'm sorry…I cant do this right now," she said, her lower lip trembling. Then she stood and ran to her room. Vaughn sat still on the couch, cradling his cast. He frowned pensively out the window. After a minute he reached out and grabbed a notebook and pen. Then he began to write, pausing ever so often to chew on the pen.

*

Silence fell in the car, and Francie lay her head against the window to watch the landscape go by. It was strangely soothing, and she found herself drifting off…

Weiss shook her awake gently, not really wanting to wake her. She looked around blearily.

"Where are we?" she mumbled.

"At a petrol station about an hour away from L.A," Weiss replied. Francie sat up straighter and tried to look alert.

"Coffee?" she asked. Weiss nodded towards the drink holder. Francie looked down at a steaming cup of coffee. She smiled.

"Thank you," she said, sipping at it. It was hot enough to scald her tongue, but she didn't care. Weiss let her drink for a bit, then cleared his throat.

"I have to fill you in on what's going on," he said regretfully. Francie sat up attentively.

"I told you earlier that we were setting Sloane up- we still are. We need you to report to the Alliance and fill them in on the details," he said. Francie looked nervous, but nodded.

"I know it'll be hard, but I'll be there for you all the way. The story is this: you've been watching Sydney for any potential signs of her not being loyal when you started to notice some discrepancies in Sloane's work. First you confronted him, but he placated you, and all evidence of that meeting was destroyed. Jack is saying that Sloane asked him to destroy records of that meeting. You let it alone for a few months, but you couldn't ignore it so you went to Jack. He confronted Sloane, and Sloane denied everything. Then he began to set Sydney up as a scapegoat, but you knew Sydney was clean. Sloane couldn't handle the pressure anymore, what with the death of his wife, and now setting up the daughter of one of his lifelong friends to be executed so he took his own life," Weiss said. 

Francie fiddled with her hands, looking down at her lap.

"Are you alright?" Weiss asked. She nodded, her hair falling over her face.

"Where's the meeting?" she asked.

"Montreal," Weiss replied.

"And you're going to be there?" she asked. Weiss nodded. Francie looked up, then smiled at him.

"Okay," she said bravely. Weiss reached over and hugged her, then started the engine of the car. 

*

Sydney lay on her bed, her face conflicted. She liked Vaughn…maybe even loved him. But why did he have to make a move now?! She had too many other things on her mind- Sloane's death and her father's potential role in it, Francie being placed in danger again, everything was all happening at once. She buried her face in her hands.

A folded piece of paper appeared under her door. She looked at it curiously, then climbed off the bed to read it. She unfolded it impatiently.

__

To Sydney, she read.

I'm sorry for that. I know it wasn't the right time, and I don't know what came over me. If you want to talk, you know where I am. 

Love,

Michael.

She clutched the letter in her fist, pushing her hair back behind her ear. Then she took a deep breath and walked back outside. Vaughn looked up from the television, then switched it off. She walked into the lounge and sat primly on the couch. Vaughn waited for her to say something.

"You just took me by surprise, that's all," she said. Vaughn nodded, remaining silent. She leaned back further into the couch.

"But whatever it was that came over you…any chance of it coming back?" she asked demurely. Vaughn grinned devilishly.

"That can be arranged," he murmured, then leaned over to kiss her again. She reached up and placed a slender finger on his mouth.

"What about protocol?" she whispered. Vaughn started to pull away, but she drew his face to hers and kissed him. '_Stuff protocol_,' thought Vaughn.

__

Author's Note: I know. Short. I may not be able to write much for awhile, but I can always be encouraged by some reviews…hint hint.


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's Note: Just like to thank all the people who take the time to review- you guys really are amazing.  Thank you so much.  Oh, and to apologise to people in advance for any mistakes made about Montreal, or in my French, as it's very limited._

Vaughn blinked blearily in the early morning light and reached up to wipe his eyes, hitting himself fairly hard with his cast.  He glared at it, then leaned over to glance at the clock.  It was hard to believe that this was his third day in the safe house.  He looked out the window at the beautiful clear day outside.  He nodded decisively, swung his feet out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a shirt.  Then he laced up a pair of jogging shoes awkwardly and stood up.   

He walked into the kitchen, grabbed a banana and was about to leave when he heard Sydney in the other room.  He glanced inside and saw her doing some kind of yoga style work out.  Watching her stretch her body that way seemed vaguely pervy, so he jogged quietly out the front door.

Vaughn walked back inside the door, his face sweaty from the jog he'd just taken.  He pulled his shirt off awkwardly with one hand and threw it into a laundry basket.  A single trickle of sweat dribbled down his chest, and he wiped it off irritably.  Then he poured himself a drink of water and walked into the lounge area.  Sydney was sitting on the floor, normal clothing replaced with lightweight tracksuit pants and a singlet top.  Vaughn settled himself on the floor in front of her.

"How was it your jog?" she asked.  She splayed her legs out and in front of her.  Her hands grasped her feet and she folded until her chest sat flat against her legs.  Vaughn winced slightly and she frowned up at him.

"Scenic," he replied simply, still staring at her.   He frowned and cocked his head to one side.

"There is something inherently wrong about that," he stated.  Sydney smiled at him, then spun one leg across the floor and rolled over herself, momentarily spreading her legs in horizontal splits, before finishing the contortion, face down. Her legs bent at the knees and she lifted her lower legs behind her. At the same time she pressed her torso off the floor until her toes touched the back of her head.  Vaughn frowned at her as if she were some kind of optical illusion.  Or a human pretzel.

"Doesn't that hurt?" he asked plaintively.  Sydney grinned at him, eyes laughing.

"Only if you don't know what you're doing," she replied.  She unfolded herself and stood in one fluid motion.  Vaughn looked up at her, and she stretched her calf muscles.  After a few minutes she settled herself back down on the floor, breathing deeply and regularly.  Vaughn looked sheepish.

"I see why you're the field agent and I'm not," he cracked.  Sydney laughed, then started to rise.

"What are we going to do today?" she asked.  Vaughn's face sobered.

"Devlin rang while you were asleep.  We're to brush up on our French," he said.  Sydney frowned curiously.

"Why?" she asked.  Vaughn shrugged.

"He didn't say," he replied, his face puzzled.

*

Francie looked around her new hotel room and sighed.  The flight over had been hell.  She'd been stuck next to an elderly woman who didn't speak a word of English and a four year boy who kept asking questions.  If she heard another _"Pourquoi?" again she was going to scream.  It wouldn't have been as bad if she could have spoken to Eric, but he couldn't be seen with her.  Security reasons or something.  Francie sighed and walked to the window._

Montréal.  Francie had never been to this part of Canada before, and a small part of her was excited.  A very small part.  The idea of staring the Alliance in the face and lying scared her more than she would ever admit.  She turned away from the window at the sound of her phone ringing.  She sighed and picked up to answer it.

"_Allo?" she said, hoping her accent was passable.  It obviously was._

_"Francie?  C'est toi?" came what was obviously Weiss' voice.  Francie struggled not to laugh at his atrocious accent._

"Yes, it's me.  Didn't recognise me huh?" she joked.  Weiss chuckled.

"You do that nearly as well as Mike, and he's a native speaker," he said.  Francie blushed.

"_Merci beaucoup," Francie giggled, then became serious._

"Francie, Jack just rang me.  A representative of the Alliance is going to meet you at Rue St Cathèrine.  You're to wear a red blouse and a blue scarf.  Someone will approach you and ask where the Café Musain is.  Tell them to go up to the second street, then turn left.  After that, take the next taxi that arrives- it will take you to the meeting place.  Did you get that?"

Francie nodded, then realised that he couldn't see it down the phone.

"Yeah, I got it," she replied, her voice shaking slightly.  She hoped Eric hadn't noticed.

"You'll do fine," Eric said.  So much for him not noticing.  Francie sighed, then looked at her suitcase.

"I suppose I had better go and find the right clothing," she sighed.  There was a short pause.

"Promise me that you'll take care," Eric whispered.  Francie smiled in spite of herself.

"I promise," she said before placing the phone gently on the receiver.  She turned to her suitcase, her face grim.

_Author's Note: Still doing those exams, but nearly finished!  Then I can spend some more time actually doing stuff other than study!  Anyway, feedback is always welcome __J__ and thank you again to everyone who has reviewed._


	14. Author's Note before chapter 14

Author's Note

This is going to be a long author's note, but hopefully everyone can live with that. Well, I was sitting and stressing about my piano exam (which is in about an hour, so I'm a wreck) when I checked my email. And was shocked by the amount of support you people have given me. I never expected my stories to have reached such a wide audience, and I was inundated with emails asking me to continue. 

I've also come to the realisation that everything those emails said was true. The good reviews to outweigh the bad ones. I also realised that writing this stories was a kind of release. So I have decided, after much deliberation, to continue writing 'Ever Really Know Someone' and 'Consequences'. After all, I want to find out what happens to Sydney, Vaughn, Francie, Weiss and everyone else just as much as you do. So I would like to thank everyone who's supported me through all this:

Consequences

Mrs. Vartan

Untannasq

AuroraSkies37

Anonymous (name not shown)

Ever Really Know Someone

Charlie James

Tol123

Kat

Stoko981 (twice! J)

Chocolatechipcookies777

Julie

Elya

Webmistress Eh?

Untannasq

Anonymous (name not shown)

Nickel

Anonymous (name not shown)

MiniBristow47

Ecd

Anonymous

If your name was missed out, it's probably because I wrote this Author's Note before your review was registered on the site, so I'd like to thank those people too.


	15. Chapter 14

Alrighty then, enough of that. Here's the next chapter of the story:

*

Francie frowned at her reflection in the mirror. She'd thought she knew what she was getting herself in for when she joined SD-6, but this was entirely new. She was in way over her head and sinking fast. The alarm on her wristwatch beeped jovially, in a sharp contrast to Francie's melancholy. She sighed and picked up her keys absently. This was it.

A taxi pulled up in front of the hotel, and Francie jogged over to it, wanting to get out of the lightly falling rain. It was freezing outside, and her breath formed a mist in front of her eyes. She leaned over to the taxi's window.

"Do you speak English?" she asked hopefully. The driver shook his head apologetically, and Francie sighed. Oh well, at least she'd get some French practice.

"Êtes-vous libre?" she asked, hoping that the taxi was free so she wouldn't have to walk to the meeting place in the rain. 

"Oui madame," replied the driver in heavily accented French. Francie sighed in relief and climbed inside.

"Ou allez-vous?" the driver asked where she was going. Francie took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady.

"À le Rue St Cathérine," Francie replied, her voice shaking ever so slightly. The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb. Francie rubbed her gloved hands over each other in an attempt to keep warm. She'd thought that she was used to cold weather, but this was just ridiculous. Why couldn't they have met in the Bahamas or something?

"Nous voilà à la Rue St Cathérine," said the driver, breaking Francie's reverie. She looked around, confused, then smiled at the driver.

"Merci. C'est combien?" She paid the driver and climbed out the car into the biting cold. Shivering slightly, she tried to remember Weiss' instructions for her. Just wait for someone to ask about the Café Musain. She sat down on a nearby bench, then wondered whether she was supposed to be standing. She stood up again, just to be safe. The drizzle increased in intensity, and she raised her hand instinctively to protect her hair. Much longer out here and she was going to look like something the cat dragged in. She sighed heavily, longing for an umbrella but not wanting to go look for one in case she missed her contact.

Finally a dark haired man approached her.

"Excuse me. Do you know where the Café Musain is?" he asked in a heavily accented, gravelling voice. Francie smiled blankly at him while she tried to remember what she was supposed to say. Finally it came to her.

"Go up to the second street, then turn left," she said triumphantly. The man thanked her and walked off. Francie turned to the road, waiting for the next taxi. It pulled up against the curb a few metres in front of her and she jogged over to it. The door opened and she stopped. After this, she was on her own. Quenching the butterflies in her stomach she walked the rest of the distance to the car and climbed inside. The engine growled menacingly and the car pulled away.

*

__

Author's Note: Short, but then again at least it's somethingJ And it wouldn't be here if it wasn't for all your wonderful support- thank you guys (and girls!)


	16. Chapter 15

__

Author's Note: Another literary masterpiece (only joking!) for your enjoyment. 

Sydney stood nervously in Devlin's office, her face struggling to remain composed. She clasped her hands firmly behind her back and stared defiantly at the men in the room. Devlin sat opposite from her, leaning back in his chair. If he put his feet up on the desk, Sydney vowed to personally break them. Sitting behind and slightly to her left was Vaughn; once again wearing the designer suits she'd grown so used to seeing him in. The only thing marring his otherwise perfect appearance was the ungainly cast still encasing his arm. He stared straight ahead, ignoring her.

The other person in the room stood in the corner, leaning back in an apparently casual pose. But Jack Bristow was never casual, and Sydney could see the barely contained tension in his posture. He also ignored her, examining Devlin with an impassive face. Sydney turned back to Devlin.

"What are we doing here?" she asked abruptly. Devlin looked taken aback at her bluntness, then sat up straighter, resting his hands flat on the desk.

"You're here so I can give you the rest of your details before you go back to SD-6," he said in a patronising tone. Sydney struggled not to sneer at him, but Vaughn and Jack remained motionless. If his tone had offended either of them, it didn't show in their faces.

"Get on with it then," Sydney demanded coldly. Devlin stared at her for a moment, then nodded.

"I take it you know Sloane is dead. Murdered," Devlin started. Sydney and Vaughn nodded, and Sydney had to fight from looking towards her father. Maybe she wanted to know, maybe she didn't. She remained staring steadfastly forward.

"Your point?" Sydney asked, her temper getting the better of her.

"Watch it, Syd," Vaughn murmured under his breath. Sydney gritted her teeth and plastered a fake smile on her face.

"My point is that you don't know all the details, which is why you're here," Devlin said, ignoring Vaughn. Sydney ground her teeth, the smile still firmly in place.

"Your father is acting head of SD-6, a position that we hope will be made permanent," Devlin started. Sydney turned to stare at her father. He stared back, his blank face revealing nothing. She turned away, and Devlin continued.

"Your missions will still be going ahead as planned. You'll be provided with more details later, but the gist of it is that you'll be going to Switzerland. Geneva to be specific. The possibility of confirmation of your father's new position rides on the success on this mission, so I don't want any hitches, problems, breaks of protocol. If any mission of yours is to go perfect, Agent Bristow, I need it to be this one. You are dismissed," Devlin said, turning his attention to some paperwork in front of him. Sydney turned to go, when she remembered something.

"What about Francie?" she asked. Devlin looked up at her, irritated.

"That's none of your concern," he said tersely, dismissing her with a wave. Sydney opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind when a hand touched her arm. She followed the arm to Vaughn's face. He shook his head at her. She shrugged his arm off, then stormed out of the room. Vaughn sighed and walked out after her.

"Sydney! Wait!" Vaughn called, jogging down the hall after her. Sydney stopped but didn't turn around. Vaughn caught up, and spun her to face him. She looked up at him, her eyes wild.

"How dare he?! She's my friend, my best friend, and he says that it's _not my concern_!! That…assshole!!" she raved. Vaughn looked around anxiously then dragged her into a nearby room. Thankfully it was empty. He shut the door behind him carefully, then turned to face Sydney.

"Sydney, you need to calm down," he said, his forehead wrinkled in concern. Sydney's eyes flicked up, then she giggled in spite of herself. Vaughn looked confused.

"What?" he asked. Sydney giggled harder and looked away.

"You are so easy to read. Just count the number of forehead wrinkles…right now I'd say you are pretty stressed," she said. Vaughn looked bemused, and reached up to his forehead. He frowned harder, then shook his head.

  
"Do you think you can handle this mission?" he asked, ignoring the way her shoulders were still shaking with laughter. She turned to face him, her beautiful face sombre. 

"I should be able to but…I wont really be able to concentrate if I'm constantly worried about Francie," she admitted. Vaughn gave her an undecipherable look.

"My friend's there too, you know," he said quietly. Sydney's hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry! I completely forgot! God, I am so self-centred," she proclaimed. Vaughn shook his head.

"No you aren't. You're just worried about your friend, which is completely justified. However, if it's going to interfere with the mission I need to know," he said. Sydney thought for a moment, then determination filled her face.

"It wont. I promise," she said, her voice steady. Vaughn nodded, then an evil grin lit up his face.

"You're so cute when you're determined," he said, kissing her lightly. Sydney drew back.

"Not here!" she whispered her eyes wide. Vaughn sighed in resignation, then nodded. He rested his forehead against hers for a minute, then let go.

"You'd better go. They'll be expecting you," he said. Sydney smiled, then left the room. Vaughn sat down heavily on the desk and stared off into space.

*

Francie leaned back into the car seat, her heart racing. Suddenly she felt a jab at her neck, and she gasped. A gloved hand reached around and clamped over her mouth. She let out a quiet whimper, and her heart pounded.

"This is for our protection. Don't make any sudden moves," a voice whispered in her ear. The words were almost reasonable, but the tone promised things that Francie didn't ever want to know. She nodded her head slightly, her breath coming in quick rushes.

"Good," whispered the voice again, and the hand withdrew from her mouth. Francie started to slump in relief, but the thing pressed against her neck dug in deeper. She sat up straighter, more frightened than she'd ever been in her life.

"Take us there," said the voice to the driver. Francie tried to see out the window, so she'd know where she was going but the man behind her turned her head back so sharply she winced.

"You didn't think we'd let you see us, did you?" taunted the voice. A black piece of cloth was tied around her eyes, rendering her eyes useless. Francie sat in the darkness and tried to calm herself. She listened out for any sound that she could use to identify the location later. There were none.

*

Sydney sat herself done at the conference table in the Credit Dauphine building and looked around. Everyone had the same mildly shocked expression on their face, and Marshall looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. She frowned at him, concerned.

"Marshall, are you all right?" she asked. He nodded, but didn't say anything, which heightened Sydney's concerns rather than dampen them. She turned to Dixon, who leaned over to her.

"Sloane's suicide hit him pretty hard. He hasn't been himself since," he explained. Sydney nodded, then examined Dixon's own face. Black bags hung under his puffy eyes, and he seemed pale but she wasn't quite sure. All she knew was that she was glad that she'd taken the time to fix herself up before she came into the room. After all, her father had told them that she'd been attending a funeral for a close aunt when the news about Sloane's death had reached her. Most of her bruises from the escape had faded, but several remained. Fortunately, she'd covered them up with some extremely pale concealer. The final result- she looked as pale and drawn as the rest of them. 

The noise of a door opening drew Sydney out of her reverie, and she looked up at the door. Her father walked in, his face even more blank than usual. Sydney tried to read any expression of it, but it was as impossible as it had been in Devlin's office. He started to sit down in his usual seat, then thought better of it and sat in Sloane's. Marshall looked away for a moment, then back again. Jack Bristow cleared his throat.

"Arvin's death has affected us all, but as you all know we must continue his work," he said in a gruff voice. Dixon sat up straighter and looked attentive.

"The other SD sections could use this as an excuse to shut us down, and we don't want that. So I'm sending this mission ahead as planned. The details are as follows: we've received news that K-Directorate is in Geneva. We don't know what they're doing there and we want to find out. Sydney and Dixon will be going to Geneva to take surveillance photos of the meeting places, and try to make recordings of what's being said. Marshall, I'm leaving the technical stuff up to you," Jack said. Marshall looked up and nodded a bit of his old exuberance returning. 

"Dismissed," Jack said, then left the room without a second glance. Sydney sat where she was for a minute, then stood up to leave. Marshall turned to her.

"I've got some great ideas, I was watching James Bond last night…man I love those movies, he's so smooth, anyway…I was watching Q, do you think I'm like him at all? He's my role model…so anyway, I was watching it and wondering where he got all his ideas from when it hit me…" Marshall said. Sydney smiled at him.

"I'm sure you have a point in there somewhere, I just don't know where," she joked. Marshall grinned, chasing away some of the shadows that had filled his face.

"Oh, sorry. If you can come down later, I'll show you what you'll be using," he said hurriedly, then walked away. Dixon leaned over to her.

"You know, that's the most lively I've seen him in days. I knew you could help him," he said. Sydney's cheeks coloured slightly.

"Umm…I only hope I can," she said, her eyes following Marshall down the stairs. Her pager beeped, and she jumped slightly, digging it out of her purse.

"Oh, I have to take this. I'll meet you with Marshall in about an hour?" she suggested. Dixon nodded, and Sydney shrugged on her jacket and dashed for the elevator.

*

The engine died, and Francie let out a sigh of relief. The door next to her opened, and she was pulled out of the car. She stumbled slightly, then reached up to remove the blindfold.

"Not until you're inside," said the voice again. Francie vowed that when she found the owner of that voice, he was going to be singing soprano for a month. She allowed herself to be led up a flight over stair, stumbling slightly, and down a long corridor. Finally she heard a door close, and the voice spoke up again.

"You may remove the blindfold now," it said. Francie ripped it off and threw it on the floor. Then she looked around the room- it looked like a police interrogation room. There was a desk in the centre of it, with a small recorder sitting on it along with some other equipment she didn't recognise. Along one wall was a one way mirror. Francie longed to know who was on the other side, but wasn't stupid enough to ask. Standing in the corner was the owner of the voice.

He was a relatively tall man, with dark hair and eyes. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and he wore a long trenchcoat. Francie studied his face intently, memorising it for if the opportunity arose. He gestured for her to sit down. She resisted the urge to spit at him and complied. He left the room, and another man entered. He kept his back to her, reading through her file. Finally he turned around, placing the folder on the desk. Francie didn't recognise him. He sat down in front of her and cleared his throat.

"Are you Cassandra Francine Vasquez?" he asked. His voice was tainted by the slightest of accents, but Francie couldn't place it.

"Yes," she said, proud of the way her voice remained steady. He nodded vaguely.

"And you work under the alias Francie Calfo, correct?" he asked again. Francie nodded. He smiled suddenly.

"Good. If you would place your hand on the pad to your left please," he said, more of a statement than a question. Francie's eyes flicked to the left.

"Why?" she asked defiantly. The man sighed.

"For our records, so we're certain that you are who you claim you are," he said tiredly. Francie frowned, but lay her hand on the pad. It scanned her hand, then beeped cheerily.

"See? That was easy, wasn't it?" said the man. Francie struggled not to punch him then and there. Instead she settled for narrowing her eyes and glaring at him.

"Attitude wont get you anywhere, Ms. Vasquez. We simply want to ask you a few questions, then send you on your way," he said in a oh-so-reasonable voice. Francie frowned, but nodded.

"Good. Let us begin then," he said. Francie didn't like the way he said that.

*

Weiss paced the hotel room. He'd long since figured out the dimensions, but he couldn't bring himself to do something as mindless as watching television. Instead, he ground his footsteps into the carpet. The curtains were flung open, revealing a spectacular view but Weiss saw none of it. All he saw was the look on Francie's face when he'd told her the mission. The fear quickly smothered with determination. He admitted it to himself. He was worried sick about a person he'd only just met. 

He'd rung Devlin to get the status on Mike and Sydney, but all he'd been told was that they were "unreachable at the moment, and their details were of a need-to-know basis." Weiss frowned, he'd heard that one before. Several times, each one involving a mission that grew more and more dangerous, culminating in that trip to Taipei. He'd vowed never to be in a situation like that again, and here he was. Pacing a hotel room, stomping his worries about three people into the carpet.

He glanced at his watch. She'd been gone for two hours now, and realistically she could be gone for several more. He resumed his frenetic pacings.

__

Author's Note: You know, I think this may be the longest chapter in this story…well, now that I have the free time (no more school til February!) you can all expect to see longer chapters. If you have a problem, tell me about it in a review. If you don't…tell me about it in a review! 


	17. Chapter 1617whatever

Author's Note: I realise this took ages to write- I got caught up in real life, then my keyboard broke (no doubt helped by the coffee that someone spilt on it…), then my muse just went and abandoned me!  So I'm going to try and make do without it…

_Oh yes, I have advice for other author's on this site: don't try and write several stories at once.  I'm trying to write 4 at the moment, and I keep forgetting which one is which.  I'm going to have to learn…_

_*_

"Cassandra.  Why don't you start by telling us when you first began to suspect Arvin Sloane?" asked the man in front of Francie is a calm voice.  No one had told Francie his name, and it didn't seem likely that he was going to volunteer it.  Francie concentrated on everything she'd been told about interrogation, preparing herself to deliver the response that the CIA had told her to use.  She cleared her throat.

"I was originally going to perform deskwork- be an analyst or something.  But Arvin Sloane took me aside before I could start work.  He informed me that I was to follow Agent Sydney Bristow.  He told me that he didn't really suspect her, but her father's position in the company meant that she had to be under surveillance…"

"What do you mean "her father's position in the company meant that she had to be under surveillance"?" asked the man in a level voice.  Francie looked up at him, but his face betrayed nothing.  She gave a brief smile.

"That's what I asked him, actually.  He told me that her father had worked in covert operations, and due to his high placement she would be the most obvious tool for blackmail," Francie explained.  The man wrote a few notes on the notebook, and Francie struggled not to stare at the pen.  She longed to know what was written there, but the man kept it hidden.  He probably hadn't written it in English anyway.  Finally he nodded for her to continue.

"Well, anyway, I accepted the job and was placed into the same graduate school as Sydney.  I met her, made friends with her, even became her flatmate, the whole time concealing the fact that I was also working for them."

"Them?"

"I was instructed not to reveal the name of my company to anybody.  I guess it's just habit now."

"Continue."

"There was nothing to suggest that Sydney wasn't loyal to her work, and in the years I worked with her I began to wonder why I was there.  I'd been told that it was abnormal for anyone to spend so much time undercover.  However…"

"Yes?"

"During the last year I noticed…things.  Abnormalities, discrepancies, and I approached Sloane about it.  He brushed me off, saying it was just normal glitches from the increased workload the company had been doing and not to worry about it.  I tried to do as he said, but the discrepancies increased."

"What kinds of discrepancies?"

"Little things at first, but then they increased.  My reports were altered a few times, made to incriminate Sydney.  And the mission where Sloane sent assassins after her to try and flush her out.  He was determined that the mole was Sydney, even though there was no evidence to suggest so and plenty of evidence to suggest otherwise."

"So you met with Sloane again?"

"Yes.  I told him of some of my suspicions."

"And what did he say?"  

"He said that I had spent too much time undercover, than I was absorbing into my role.  After that he refused to listen to anything I said.  So I met with Agent Bristow."

"Jack Bristow?"

"Yes.  I told him everything I'd noticed, and he informed me that he'd been noticing the same kinds of things.  I didn't want to accept it at first, but all evidence said that Sloane had been compromised."

"When did this occur?"

"About a month ago.  I met with Jack Bristow two times afterwards, and I think our conversations were recorded.  Somehow Sloane knew that we'd found him out.  Then things began to escalate.  I think the death of his wife affected him more than he'd let on, and he was desperate to save himself.  I don't know.  So he tried to frame Sydney."

"…And?"

"And I learnt later that he'd sent out a message to all the other SD cells that he'd found out the identity of the mole and had them in custody.  But the next day we found out that he'd killed himself.  We found evidence of his betrayal in his files afterwards, but didn't inform many people inside SD-6."

"…All right, Cassandra, we're going to stop now.  We need to go over a few things- it wont take long.  Someone will be with you shortly," the man said, then closed his notebook.  Francie hadn't noticed until after she'd finished just how much he'd written down.  The man walked over to a panel in the wall, pushed it slightly and removed a tape.  Francie wasn't surprised; Weiss had told her that the conversation would be recorded.  She leaned back in her seat and watched the man left.  Then she buried her head in her hands.

*

_Author's Note: I know this was really short, and I said in the previous chapter that the chapters would be longer now, but I have the worst case of writers block ever.  Any suggestions on how I can fix this would be GREATLY appreciated.  So would reviews, but I guess you already know that.  Thank you for all your support, and for sticking with this story- I know it's getting rather long.  The end is in sight (sighs in relief.)_


	18. Chapter 18

_Author's Note: Well, this is the end.  And the longest chapter in the story._

~This chapter is dedicated to everyone who has reviewed me in general; and to Stoko981 in particular, whose words encouraged me to continue writing this story.  Thank you, it really means a lot to me.~

Weiss looked out the window, watching the sun set.  He glanced at his watch again; seeing that it had only been 5 minutes since the last time he'd checked it.  Francie had been gone for 9 hours.  Weiss turned away from the window and looked at the phone.  It was time to call.

He lifted the phone off the receiver and waited for the dial tone.  Then he punched in the number and waited for it to connect.

"CIA Headquarters, LA, how may I connect you?" came a bored drawl over the line.  Weiss smiled in spite of himself.  Answering the phones would be an extremely uninteresting job, he could sympathise.  

"Devlin's office," he told the receptionist, then listened to the hold music.  It played away merrily for a minute, then was sharply cut off.

"Devlin," said a brusque voice.

"It's Agent Weiss," Weiss identified himself.  He heard a deep sigh over the line.

"What is it Weiss?" Devlin asked tiredly.  Weiss took a deep breath, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"Francie's still in there," he said.  There was a pregnant pause.

"How long?"

"9 hours."

"…All right.  You know what to do," Devlin said cryptically.  Weiss glanced back out the window.

"Do I have authorisation?"

"Yes.  Do it."  The line cut off.  Weiss placed the phone down gently and grabbed his shoes.  He pulled them on, holstered his gun and grabbed his keys.  He allowed himself one last glance around the room, then head outside.  

*

"Could she be lying?"

"Impossible to tell.  Her anxiety levels are too high."

"Do we have any reason to doubt her?"

"Her story has many holes.  Why wouldn't Bristow inform us of his suspicion of Sloane?  Why didn't anyone else notice?"

"She has been undercover for longer than recommended…could she have begun to absorb her role?"

"Possible.  Her reaction to her real name was delayed, it's possible that she thinks of herself as Francie Calfo."

"Where do the others stand?"

"The risk is high.  It must be eliminated."

"…do it."

*

Sydney hung from the rafter of the nearby warehouse, ignoring the way the harness cut into her body uncomfortably.  She lifted the night vision headset to her eyes and looked through the window opposite.  

"Target spotted," she whispered into the microphone concealed in her collar.  

"Keep with them," came Dixon's reply.  Sydney snorted quietly.  Keep with them; honestly, what did he think she was going to do?  Eat a pizza?  Sydney neglected to answer him, instead turning her attention back to the job at hand.  She watched the man they'd identified as K-Directorate closely, trying to read his lips.  It was impossible, and she knew it, but she had to do something or she'd die of boredom.  The man just seemed to be talking, and was showing no sign of leaving.  She adjusted the harness for a better line of sight.

*

Weiss tore down the icy roads, ignoring the speed limit completely.  His eyes flicked over to the clock briefly.  It had been 10 minutes since he left the hotel, and his estimated time of arrival at the warehouse that had been identified as the most likely SD holding place was in about 10 more minutes.  He pushed his foot down harder on the accelerator, pushing the car harder.  As far as he was concerned it had already been too long.

*

Francie sat in the holding cell after pacing for half an hour.  She had told her story in her most believable manner, but something must be up.  Why else would they be taking so long?  Suddenly she turned and began pounding hard on the one-way mirror.  The sounds reverberated around the room, bringing a nice break from the deathly quiet that had surrounded her for hours.  

Her fists started to hurt and she stopped pounding.  She cradled her hands to her chest and slid down the wall opposite, landing with a barely audible thud.  She hugged her knees to her chest and laid her head on them.  Then she began to sob.

*

Dixon sat in the van, watching the video pickups Sydney had provided.  He pulled on a pair of headphones and adjusted the volume on the audio pickups they'd planted.  They were still exchanging pleasantries.  Dixon growled in frustration.

"How long does it take?" he asked rhetorically.  The only answer he received was a blinking message on one of the screens.

"What the…?" he asked, pulling the headphones off and tossing them onto the table.  He stood up and looked at it more closely.

"Sydney, I have to radio silent for a minute- priority message from HQ," he said quickly down his own microphone.  Without waiting for her reply he hit the switch and opened a channel.

"Hello?" he asked warily.

"Identify yourself," demanded a voice that Dixon had never heard before.

"Dixon," he answered, his curiosity intrigued.  They'd never received a priority override from HQ before.

"Is Agent Bristow with you?" asked the voice.  Dixon glanced quickly over at the video pickups.  Sydney was obviously bored, the camera kept jolting.  If he had to venture a guess, he'd say she was fiddling with her harness straps.

"Yes," he said finally.

"Is she able to hear this conversation?"

"No," Dixon said.

"Good.  There's been a problem…"

*

Jack Bristow was just about to leave for home when something caught his attention.  He placed his briefcase on the floor carefully, turning back to his computer.  A priority message was flashing on the screen.  Jack sighed, he couldn't ignore it.  He sat back down on his swivel chair and opened the message.  He read it carefully.

"Oh shit…" he murmured, and then ran out the door, forgetting his briefcase in his rush.

*

Weiss parked the car violently, not caring if he damaged it or not.  He threw off his seatbelt and pulled the key out of the ignition so roughly he almost broke the soft metal shaft off.  He cursed under his breath and opened the door roughly, climbing out of the car.  Then he slammed the door shut and turned to face the building.  Taking a deep breath he began to jog towards the side entrance.  Security should be light, it was only a temporary holding place.

He pulled on the door handle.  Locked.  

"Arrrrrrgh!" he yelled, frustrated, and then remembered the lock pick in his pocket.  He pulled it out, inserted it in the keyhole and jimmied the lock.  It unlocked with a barely audible click and Weiss grinned to himself.  He shoved the pick back into his pocket and opened the door slowly.  It looked clear, so he entered, shutting the door behind him.  Then he crept down the dank concrete corridor, looking for Francie.

*

The sound of the door opening snapped Francie's attention back to the present.  She stopped crying and climbed to her feet, watching the door handle turn.  The door opened slowly, and the man entered.  Francie struggle, and barely succeeded, in concealing her sneer.

"Well?" she asked impatiently.  The man said nothing, merely reached around behind his back.  Something in his eyes alerted Francie, and she watched his hand with a terrible realisation.  The man pulled out a gun and pointed it straight at her.

"I'm sorry," said the man, not sounding the least bit apologetic.  He clicked off the safety, spurning Francie into action.  She kicked the man in the head as hard as she could, causing him to slump to the ground, unconscious…

But she was just a fraction of a second too late.  The gun went off with an almost deafening noise, and Francie felt something enter her stomach violently, tearing through her body.  Then came the pain, a horrible burning feeling.  She fell back against the table, her hands immediately going to her stomach.  They encountered a sticky wetness, and she lifted them to her eyes.  Red blood dripped from them, and she let out a tiny sob.  The pain was incredible.

Holding her hands firmly to the wound, Francie stumbled out the door.  The world shifted dramatically.  She started to fall against the wall and threw her hand out, leaving a bloodstain against the wall.  She whimpered quietly, and then headed in what she was pretty sure was the direction of the exit.  She knew she didn't have long before the others would come.

*

Sydney fiddled with her harness straps some more.  The man she was supposed to be watching still hadn't moved, and Dixon was still radio silent.  She wondered what the Alliance could possibly want with him.  She glanced at her wristwatch.  10 minutes since Dixon had cut her off.  She sighed and lifted the night vision goggles to her face again.

*

Jack burst into Devlin's office, ignoring the protests of his secretary.  Devlin glared up at him, infuriated

"I'm busy, Jack!" he hissed, stacking his paperwork.  Jack stared down at him dangerously.

"Look at this," he growled, slamming a crumpled piece of paper down on the desk hard enough to make Devlin jump.  He reached over and picked up the piece of paper carefully, his irritation fading.  He read through it, his expression changing from fury to horror.  He looked up at Jack, his face suddenly terribly old.  Jack merely glared back at him.

"You know what we have to do," Devlin said quietly.  Jack nodded, resigned.  Devlin stood and led him out of the office.  The door slammed shut.  The paper blew off the desk and onto the floor, revealing the simple message.

_Order of Immediate Elimination_

_ Targets: Cassandra Vasquez, Sydney Bristow and Jack Bristow.  _

*

A sound behind her startled Sydney, and she berated herself for being so lax.  She turned slowly, dreading what she would see.  

She looked down a gun barrel, a sight that she had seen all to many times in her life.  Her eyes followed the gun barrel to the hand the held it.  They flicked upwards, and what she saw caught her breath.

"Dixon?" she whispered, her voice shaking.  Dixon stared back at her, his face impassive.  The safety clicked off…

*

Vaughn glared at his mobile phone as it rung urgently.  It refused to shut up, and he gave up.  Sighing, he hit the answer button and lifted it to his ear.

"Michael Vaughn," he said, his voice betraying his thinly veiled annoyance.

"There's an order of assassination for Jack, Sydney and Francie," said Devlin, his voice tired.  Vaughn nearly dropped the phone.

"What?!  When?!" he demanded, shocked.

"About 10 minutes ago.  Any SD-6 agent is to shoot her on sight," Devlin added.  A sudden, chilling fear filled Vaughn.

"Dixon…" he whispered, and then ran out of the hotel room.  

*

Francie stumbled around another corner that lead into another long corridor, ignoring the black spots in front of her eyes.  She stared at the red bloodstain on the wall for a moment, and then burst into tears.  Circles.  She was going in circles.  She turned back around and looked down the hall she'd just come down.  Black whorls limited her vision, and she knew she'd lost too much blood.  She took a deep breath, ignoring the agony it elicited, and stumbled back the way she'd come.  

Weiss tore around the corner, listening for any sign of Francie.  He spotted something on one of the walls and ran to it.  A bloodstain, still wet.  Dread filled him, and he pulled out his gun and ran around another corner.  The sight that greeted him took his breath away.

A slight figure was stumbling down the hallway in front of him, whimpering softly.  Suddenly she slid to the floor, coughing.  Weiss ran to her and rolled her over.  

"Francie…" he whispered, staring at the pale face in front of him.  He looked down and hissed.  The front of her clothes was covered in blood, and she was shivering slightly.  Her face was deathly pale.  A shaking hand reached up and touched his face, smearing blood on his cheek.

"Eric…" she managed to say.  Her hand fell to her side and she coughed slightly.  Weis shifted her in his arms, holding her closer to him, ignoring her whimpers.

"So cold…" Francie gasped.  Weiss laid a finger on her lips, trying to shush her.

"Don't talk," he said, his voice rough with emotion.  She shook her head defiantly.

"Lost…too much blood…not going to make it…" she coughed out.  Weiss shook his own head in denial.

"No…no, you're going to be fine…we still have to go on our date, remember?" he whispered to her.  She laughed softly, a small gurgling noise.  Dark blood trickled out of the side of her mouth and ran down the side of her face.

"I'm…sorry…" she choked out.  Weiss bent his head down over hers, his shoulders shaking.

"Don't talk like that," he said through his tears.  Francie smiled slightly at him.

"I'm…. not scared…anymore," she whispered.  She held her fingers to her lips and kissed them, then touched Weiss face with them.  He held her hand to his face, and she started to cough again, choking on her own blood.  Unshed tears filled Weiss' eyes, and Francie smiled at him one last time.  Then her body went limp.  Weiss shook her slightly, but she didn't move.  He hugged her close to his body and sobbed, rocking her back and forth.

*

Dixon stared down at Sydney, the woman he'd shared so much with and knew that he couldn't kill her.  She looked back at him, her face full of emotions.  Dixon sighed.

"There's an order for any agent to kill you on sight," he told her.  She looked shocked, then nodded up at him.

"I'd rather you do it then," she said, surprised at how steady her voice sounded.  Dixon stared down at her slender frame, her beautiful face.  His hands shook as he pulled the trigger.

Sydney jerked backwards as the bullet impacted with her bullet-proof vest.  The pain was sharp, but she'd felt worse.  She stared up at Dixon, confused.  He _knew_ she was wearing a vest.  He shot her a quick, sad smile.

"Run," he said, turning away.  She stood up and walked over to him.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear, and then sprinted for the exit.  Dixon waited until he heard the door close before turning around.

"Good luck," he whispered back. 

*

Weiss sat in the car, making a conscious effort not to look at the shape in the backseat of the car.  He couldn't himself to leave her there, she deserved a proper burial.  Still crying softly he reached for his mobile phone and dialled the number.

*

Devlin snatched the phone up before it could even finish the first ring.  "Devlin," he said.

"She's dead…" said a hoarse voice quietly.  Devlin sat up straighter.

"Weiss?" he asked uncertainly.

"They killed her…just shot her…didn't have a chance…" whispered the voice.

"Where are you?" asked Devlin urgently.  Something in his voice must have helped Weiss begin to think.

"I'm…in the carpark…she's in the backseat…" he said, his emotions barely controlled.

"Okay…I'm sending someone for you now.  Don't move…" Devlin said.  The only reply he received was the sounds of quiet sobbing.  

*

Vaughn was waiting for Sydney in the designated switch point, hoping she'd think to come here.  He needn't have worried; her slight frame tore around the corner and nearly knocked him over.  She stopped dead and stared at him, then hugged him.  He patted her back awkwardly with his plastered hand.  She'd obviously left in the middle of the mission; she was still her equipment belt.  After a minute she pulled away, wincing slightly.

"Are you alright?" asked Vaughn, concerned.  She nodded, sending her hair flying.

"Dixon shot me," she said casually.  Vaughn's face paled suddenly, and her hand flew to her mouth.

"I didn't mean it that way!  I mean, I did get shot, but he shot me in my vest and told me to run," she explained.  Vaughn nodded in understanding.

"So you know about the assassination order?" she asked.  Vaughn nodded again, more serious this time.

"When did you find out?" Sydney asked.

"About 13 minutes ago," Vaughn said, his voice hiding the terrible worry that had plagued him for those 13 minutes.  Sydney noticed anyway.

"I'm alright," she comforted him.  Vaughn nodded again, not trusting himself to speak.  Suddenly his mobile rang, startling them both.  Vaughn smiled sheepishly at Sydney, who smiled back.  He answered the phone.

"Michael Vaughn…yes, she's fine…what?!  When?! …Oh god…Weiss? ….yes…yes, I'll tell her…

Vaughn turned away from Sydney, his shoulders shaking slightly.  Sydney stared at him, not sure if she wanted to know what was wrong.  After a minute Vaughn turned around to face her and tried to run his hand across his eyes, forgetting his cast.  He frowned at it, then looked at Sydney.  Unshed tears stood in his startling green eyes and he cleared his throat.

"Francie…?" Sydney whispered.  Vaughn nodded.

"They…they shot her…and she…she didn't make it," Vaughn choked out.  Sydney stared at him in shock for a minute, and then her beautiful face crumpled.  She broke down into heart wrenching sobs, unable to move.  Vaughn touched her shoulders cautiously, and she buried her face in his chest, sobbing into his shirt.  Vaughn hugged her to him, comforting her.  

They stood there for about 20 minutes before her sobs slowed.  She looked up at Vaughn, her face ravaged by tears.

"Now what?" she asked in a steady voice, and Vaughn marvelled inwardly at her strength.

"You have to join your father," he said quietly.  Sydney frowned.

"…Witness protection?" she asked quietly.  Vaughn nodded, and she buried her face back in his chest.  He led her away into the night.

**~Epilogue~**

6 months later, a red haired woman stood on a beach on the French Riviera.  A handsome man with light brown hair and green eyes stood beside her, lost in thought.  An older man looked on, his face worn.  After a minute the woman turned to face the man, her chocolate brown eyes searching his face.

"Why did you come?" she asked.  Michael Vaughn smiled down at her.

"I love you," he said quietly.  The woman smiled at him, though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.  

"How is he?" the woman asked.  Michael sighed tiredly.

"He's been better…but he's been worse.  He wishes he could be here," he said.  The woman turned back to the ocean, her face sad.  She knelt down and placed the white lily she held in her hand into the water.  The waves swept it away, and tears slid down her cheeks.

"I miss you Francie," said Sydney, and then turned back to the house.  

**The End**

_Author's Note: There.  The End.  Well, what did you think?  This is the last time I ask for reviews in this story, so come on.  Please?_

_Anyway, thank you so much for sticking with this story, and I hope you all enjoyed it._


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